Cassidy Finch

[Cassidy Finch]

Cassidy "Velvet" Finch Physical Description Name: Cassidy "Velvet" Finch Race: Human Age: 23 Birthday: 17th of Spring, 489 Height: 5'6" Weight: 124 lb. Character Concept Cassidy Finch is a bitter young woman who despises her position as a slave. As a child of Sunberth, she had grown to love the freedom that the lawless city provided, and mourned that she had lost it at such a young age. Having been a slave since the age of six has taught her the need to hide how she feels around those who have power over her, and by extension, around everyone else. Her bitterness and anger are well-hidden beneath years of training. To the casual observer, Cassidy would appear content with her station in life. Around anyone who might desire to beat her, she is more than capable of keeping her expression neutral or even pleasant if need be. Despite the level of control she possesses over her emotions, Cassidy is still prone to moments of defiance or disrespect. She will at times do her best to exert what little control she has over her circumstances, often doing a poor job on tasks she is given. Character Appearance Cassidy wears either a pair of plain cotton trousers and a work shirt or an equally unadorned white dress. The trousers and shirt are a bit large for her, and she needs to roll the legs up a little so they do not get soiled on the ground. The shirt looks a bit odd on Cassidy, as it is designed for a man, and hangs off of her oddly. As for her dress, Cassidy only wears it on special occasions or when she is trying to impress somebody. It fits her fairly well and contrasts well with her hair and face while at the same time maintaining a modest neckline and form. She takes great pains to keep all her clothing clean and in good shape, unwilling to wear raggedy and unclean clothing if she can help it. The woman keeps herself in as good a shape as her clothing. Her blonde hair is kept as neat as she can manage, usually hanging loose down to her shoulders, while her face is typically scrubbed clean of any dirt that might accumulate while working. Her hands are heavily calloused from hard work, but are kept clean whenever possible. Cassidy’s feet are the exception to her rule of cleanliness. They usually sport a coat of dust and dirt from her movements and have callouses thicker than those on her hands. She finds it to be simply too much effort to keep her feet clean without specific orders to do so, as her duties often entail going into dirty places and her lack of shoes or sandals forces her to simply bear the dirt and ignore it as best she can. Cassidy carries herself with a unique kind of grace. Not the dainty sort that makes one attractive to the eye, but the kind that comes of one long accustomed to being thought of as invisible. As a slave, she tries to make herself as inconspicuous as possible to avoid the eye of an overseer who might decide that the bite of a whip might make her more productive. This can come across as cringing or cowardly, but in truth, Cassidy does it merely to survive. She lowers her eyes in the presence of her betters and hastens to obey every order given to her, but in her heart, her bitterness for those who mistreat or abuse her runs deep. Character History Born the youngest child of a lower-class family, Cassidy had very little in the way of potential in her life. Her family tried to stay out of the way of the various factions that vied for power in Sunberth, and for the most part they succeeded. Cassidy's mother remained in their home, doing menial labor, while her father went out into the city to do some sort of work that he would not speak of to his family. Cassidy, for her part, was not old enough to really notice the danger of the life her family lived in Sunberth. She tended to stay at home and play with her two elder siblings. They were fraternal twins, a brother and sister pair, and often allowed Cassidy to join in on their childish games. For the most part they managed to escape any real work, being too young to effectively help in the household. This, Cassidy later thought, was a large disadvantage for her when she was enslaved. This all came to a rather unfortunate end when Cassidy's father ended up on the wrong side of one of the syndicates in the city. It was around noon when several very large men broke down the door to the family's small home and unceremoniously dragged Cassidy, her two siblings, and her mother away to a rather dank warehouse. For several hours, Cassidy and her twin brother and sister wept together with their mother in the corner of the warehouse, where they had found some rags to huddle into for a minimal measure of warmth. Although her mother tried her best to comfort the three, she was weeping as much as her children. Sometime around midnight the door slammed open, causing the children to let out frightened shrieks while their mother hurriedly shushed them. They waited in tense silence as two men, their bodies cloaked in the darkness of the warehouse, heaved a limp figure inside and slammed the door shut before it even hit the ground. Not knowing what it was, the three children cowered away from the large bundle while their mother shakily crawled towards the limp figure, praying to any god that would listen(she was never a very religious woman) that it wasn't what she feared that it was; the corpse of her husband. It seemed that the gods chose not to heed her words, as when she was close enough to see it clearly, she found her husband's face nearly unrecognizable. He had been tortured brutally and his entire body was covered in drying blood. What was left of the rest of his body was so mangled that it appeared as if a wild beast had mauled him. For several long moments, the mother stared blankly at the ruined body. Trembling, she bent over it and began to weep loudly, the sound keening in the ears of her children. The seven year old twins, one year older than Cassidy, clung to each other in fright while Cassidy slowly edged closer to her mother. Cassidy stood and made her way towards the odd-smelling bundle thath er mother was draped over, for though she was every bit as scared as her siblings, Cassidy was always a curious little girl. What she saw at the age of six was forever burned into her memory. As she leaned a bit to the side to see past her mother’s weeping form, she saw her father’s face looking back at her with bloodied, empty sockets where the eyes were meant to be. The skin on his cheeks had been shaved down clear to the muscle and tissue, while his lips had been cut away to force the man’s face into a macabre imitation of a grin. Before she got a good glimpse of her father’s tortured body, Cassidy turned away and fled to a far corner of the building, huddling there in the cold as she cried. Unlike her mother, Cassidy had no inkling of what was to come, nor did she consider it at all. Her papa had been hurt, and that was all that mattered. The new widow and her children had no time to mourn their recent loss, unfortunately. Soon after dawn’s first rays began filtering through the grimy, poorly-made windows near the top of the warehouse, the door banged open once again. Heavy boots thudded against the stone floor of the building as five men, different from the ones who had taken the four from their homes, lumbered into the dank space. The men spread out through the warehouse, two moving towards the weeping mother, her body still covering that of her husband, while the remaining three fanned out, each one taking one of the children roughly by an arm and hauling them out of the building. The twins put up a fight, and were simultaneously rewarded with a smart cuff on the head. Immediately, they ceased all struggle and allowed their captors to take them wherever they desired. Likewise, the mother struggled. She seemed fueled by some mad rage, as she clawed at faces and kicked at groins. To Cassidy, her mother seemed eerily frightening. Not at all like the mama she knew. This woman’s dress and face were covered in her husband’s dried blood, and she fought with a desperate kind of strength, trying to reach her children who were, even now, being led away to some unknown fate. Cassidy saw all this as she limply allowed herself to be carried away by the brute who had taken hold of her. She knew she should have fought like her family, but she couldn’t bring herself to do more than watch with teary eyes as her family was ripped away from her. Once outside, she was dragged roughly through the streets, losing sight of her family shortly after as they entered a large marketplace. The man bent down and growled in Cassidy’s ear, his breath smelling of smoke and what she would later assume to be alchohol, “Girl, do what I say and don’t fight, or you’ll get a taste of the lash.” Not knowing what ‘the lash’ was, but eager to avoid anything this man might use to threaten her, Cassidy nodded vigorously. The man, apparently satisfied, chuckled dryly and snatched her arms, swiftly tying a rope around her wrists before she could do more than whimper and turn her face away from the brute. This being done, he shoved her into a line which apparently led up to a platform where a man proclaimed prices and bids in speech so rapid that Cassidy could not understand a word of what was said. As Cassidy waited her turn, she looked around herself uneasily with no idea what was going on. There was a large crowd directly in front of the rickety, wooden platform. The crowd seemed to be better dressed than most people Cassidy had seen in her short life, but they were far from rich. Upper-middle classmen, they were, though Cassidy did not think of them in those terms. She only knew that they were better off than her family had been. Nearly a full bell later, the young girl was shoved roughly onto the platform by a beefy man with a club in his hand who glared menacingly at her for a moment before returning his gaze to the slaves to ensure that they did not try to escape, no matter how futile an attempt might be. Cassidy stood there, being scrutinized by the crowd as the auctioneer began the bidding for her at a very low price. All the eyes on her made her fidget as she studied her feet, which were bloodied from being dragged about the city’s streets. She really must have made a pitiful sight, dressed as she was in a ragged, plain dress. Even before her rough treatment, the dress had been old and worn; a hand-me-down from her sister. Her hair and face were soiled with dirt and tears, and she was scrawny, as well. This was the reason she was being sold so cheaply. A girl so young was useless to anyone who needed a worker. She was far too weak to do any meaningful labor for years yet, but a cheap child slave was an investment. At least, one of the men in the crowd thought so. She was sold for a pitiful price to the man, a middle-class man who dealt in minor mercantile business. The man bought several slaves of about her age, and kept them busy around his household running errands and doing meaningless work. Though he knew that they would be dead weight for a few years yet, he was training them to obey without hesitation. If any of the slaves indicated at all that they might disobey, be disrespectful, or(gods forbid) attempt escape, they would receive a severe thrashing. Not enough to leave any permanent marks, but it was severe enough that anyone who fell foul of their master would remember it for weeks to come in the form of large bruises that would cover most of their bodies. Cassidy felt many beatings over the next seven years of ownership, though not as many as most of her fellow slaves did. Once she learned to keep quiet and look like she was doing something productive, the girl rarely received any attention at all. Cassidy quickly discovered that being inconspicuous was a very good thing for a slave. Though she had adapted well to a life of slavery, she was still immeasurably bitter inside. Occasionally, this bitterness manifested itself in slightly sarcastic responses or imperfect work. It was never enough to warrant a full beating, but Cassidy usually sported a few bruises as evidence of her attitude. At the age of thirteen, however, her master fell on hard times. His investments--his slaves--managed to save him from complete bankruptcy as he sold them off to various people who could afford them. Though he’d intended to keep them until adulthood, the businessman decided that the risk of feeding that many mouths, paired with his current financial difficulties, was foolish. Most of the slaves fetched a fair price, as all the males were well-muscled from the work their master had them do, and most of the females were comely and were clearly going to grow into beautiful women. Unfortunately for Cassidy, she was not one of those comely ones. She was not ugly, it was true, but at the age of thirteen, she did not fill out a dress as well as most of the others, nor did she move with the same fluid grace that the others possessed. This made her different and, in the eyes of those who have certain uses for female slaves, less valuable. She sold once again for a less-than-desirable price to a slightly more wealthy man who happened to find the thirteen year old girl to be attractive. To him, the relatively-low price at which Cassidy was bought for was a blessing. He had been looking for a girl to entertain him during the nights, and Cassidy fit the bill for him, much to the girl’s chagrin. The first time he had attempted to bring Cassidy into his bed, she resisted him. Despite all her conditioning and self-restraint, she simply could not allow herself to be violated in that manner. Fortunately, the man was not terribly strong and Cassidy had the element of surprise. Before the man could properly pin her down, Cassidy had inflicted several scratches on his face and a few bruises on his stomach and other areas. Of course, in retribution for her defiance and actions against her new master, he made Cassidy’s life as miserable as he possibly could for the next several years. Even after the nearly-fatal whipping she had received, one which left several scars across her body, Cassidy’s rage towards her master never faded. As she had no target for her hatred, she simply had to bear it as best she could, though this never stopped her from doing her best to get retribution. Though she was unable to openly harm her master, she managed to cause him a great many inconveniences through the five years she served him. On the many nights he forced himself upon her, Cassidy allowed her hatred to show through, practically snarling in the man’s face the whole time even though it usually cost her to receive a nasty beating the next morning. Besides this insult, she would frequently leave her work half-finished or done poorly so that she had to be called to finish it up after being disciplined a bit. During her two-year tenure as an assistant to the chef of the household, she would intentionally leave something in the oven or over the fire just a bit too long, forcing her master to eat a meal that tasted just faintly of burnt food. Because of her original attack upon him the first night, Cassidy’s master changed her name to Velvet, cruelly jesting that it was because her hair was soft. He forbade her to speak her original name and threatened harsh punishment for doing so. To Cassidy’s dismay, her master heard her the first time she dared to say her own name aloud after that order. She had been huddled up in her bedroll the night afterwards, and her master had been coming to take her away to his bed. For punishment, he had her whipped so badly that she was unable to do any sort of work for nearly a week, and was very weak for a month afterwards. This once, she had learned her lesson the first time and never spoke her name again, for fear that by some chance her master might hear it. This never stopped her passive resistance against her master through poor service, however. The master knew that the theft of the one thing she could call her own, her name, hurt her more deeply than any beatings she had earned from her many transgressions, and would go out of his way to use her new name just out of cruelty. He was normally not a vengeful man, but he still had a few scars on his face where Velvet’s fingernails had scrapped the flesh away. This enraged him far more than it logically should have, for some reason. After five years of having Velvet in his household, the master could bear it no longer. No matter how much he thrashed, beat, and punished her, she never improved. He suspected that she was acting inept intentionally, though he did not care to find out for certain. The man had grown tired of her and her poor service, and decided to sell her to a passing trade caravan that dealt in various goods, slaves included. Of course, he picked a location that would make her life the hardest it could be without him there to supervise. As Velvet was a slave of little worth, she was tossed into a cramped cage-wagon along with dozens of other slaves. Crammed in as they were, the slaves lacked the spirit to speak or do more than sit quietly and wait for their next meal of poorly-prepared gruel. Even Velvet herself, a very spirited person as slaves go, had nothing to say. Not that they had a chance to speak without the caravan guardsmen overhearing, anyway. If they so much as heard whispers, they would brandish their clubs menacingly. Though the clubs weren’t very effective when used to reach into the cages, they were still intimidating enough to goad the miserable slaves into silence. A full season of this treatment had left Velvet malnourished, weak, and hungry. She welcomed even the poor food that she and the other slaves were fed once each day. Velvet had begun to think that her journey would never end when the wagon crested a hill and she could see a large lake extending for miles in front of them. In the center was the form of a massive city floating on the lake’s waves. It might have been beautiful had Velvet not heard stories of Ravok, the city of the God Rhysol. The tales she had heard whispered among the slaves in Sunberth had not been to her liking, and she did not wish to dwell on them so she began to seek for other venues of thought to occupy her. Much to Velvet’s chagrin, she could think of nothing but the horrors that faced her. No matter how lucky she was, the woman would still be a slave. It was an existence she could barely tolerate, though she had not the means to escape it. Several hours later, the slaves were hauled from the wagon, emaciated and weak from so long in the cage with such poor nourishment. The slaves had to be goaded and clubbed into the Water Gliders that would carry them, unused to exercise as they were. They could barely walk, let alone run or try to escape. Once they were in the various Water Gliders, the slaves in each boat were chained together with heavy manacles held together by rusted and somewhat aged chains. The guards in each boat eyed the slaves coldly throughout the long ride to the city, each one handling their club with threatening proficiency. Once, Velvet locked eyes with a guard in a foolish attempt at defiance. The guard quickly thumped her smartly on the shoulder, and she drew back quickly from the man, not wanting him to do worse. After what felt like an eternity, the Gliders were finally docked and the slaves herded into the city. From here, Velvet knew, they would go to the slave markets. She tried to shrug off her subdued thoughts and worries about what would happen to her, but was unsuccessful as her bare feet scuffed against the hard stone of the streets. Possessions   Possessions 1 Set of Clothing -Plain White Dress -Ragged Dress -Plain Cotton Trousers -Plain Work Short -Simple Undergarments -Right-Hand Glove   Housing Velvet lives on the streets wherever there is room for an escaped slave.   Ledger Purchase Cost Total Starting +5 GM 5 GM Stolen From -2 GM 3 GM Living Costs: Half of Fall, 512 2.5 .5 GM Skills, Lores, Magics, Gnosis, Languages   Skills Skill EXP Total Proficiency Storytelling 10 SP 10 Novice Cooking 10 SP 15 RB 25 Novice Gardening 5 SP 5 Novice Floristry 5 SP 5 Novice Dance 10 SP, 1 XP 11 Novice Sewing 10 SP 10 Novice Observation 1 XP, 1 XP, 2 XP, 1 XP 5 Novice Interrogation 2 XP 2 Novice Socialization 1 XP, 1 XP 2 Novice Subterfuge 1 XP, 1 XP 2 Novice Socialization 1 XP, 1 XP 2 Novice Persuation 1 XP 1 Novice Negotiation 1 XP 1 Novice Rhetoric 1 XP 1 Novice Philosophy 1 XP 1 Novice Running 4 XP 4 Novice Climbing 1 XP 1 Novice Leadership 3 XP 3 Novice Acting 1 XP 1 Novice Stealth 1 XP 1 Novice   Languages Language Skill Learned Common Fluent Native   Lores Lore of Sunberth Culture Lore of The Night Eyes New Master: Sevris Lazarin Sevris - Member of the Ebonstryfe Volinir: A Thief and Former Slave The Girl with Two Different Eyes Mistaken for a Runaway Caddy Twist Stepping in to save a Free Woman The Voice is Back Embracing the Crowd The Rising Dawn Attack First sigh of Death Making an Important Choice Siding with the Rising Dawn The Joy of Fighting for Freedom   Gnosis N/A

[Cassidy Finch]

Thread List Summer, 512 A.V. : A New Home (78th) - Velvet is bought by Sevris and they have a brief conversation. (Completed) A Pocket Picked (79th) - Velvet meets a former slave and makes a new friend. (Completed) Fall, 512 A.V. : A First Time for Everything (8th) - Velvet meets a thief and makes a new friend. (Complete) Window Shopping (24th) - Velvet meets Raenfae, an alchemist. (Abandoned) Learning Exercises (27th) - Velvet seeks mentoring in the art of massage. (Pending Grading) Danger Finally Realized (39th) - Velvet rescues a naive young woman from her own foolishness. (Complete) The Rising Dawn (41st) - The Temple is attacked and Velvet escapes her life of slavery. (Complete)