Cordelia is a seeker of knowledge, a finder of lore, a braver of the unknown, and a butterfly of society. Just as home in an old barrow, as in a lodge library, as at a baronet's dinner table. or at least, so she believes. She strives to be a renaissance woman. What really fascinates her is magic, though. After all, the best use of knowledge is putting it to use
isn't it? Background
: despite her airs and what some might assume, Cordelia is not a noble girl from the high streets of Oppara. No, she was born in a roadside hovel on the outskirts of Sibarra, a fishing town on the Sellen River. But that just goes to show how far ambition and a smile can take you, doesn't it? She learned from an early age the need to look after herself; her parents barely did, and her older brother was too busy with... thing
It was the arrival of a strange man from Ustulav that showed Cordelia that there might be more out there than scratching coppers out of a stranger's purse. His ferry had unloaded there in Sibarra, and he spent the night halfway on his side in the Pickled Pike, spinning tales about places he's been, things he's seen, women he'd... well
, the brandy in Sibarra can make anyone run at the mouth, can't it? But even besides that
, this was a new thing for Cordelia. Most of the tales she had heard until then concerned tomorrow's weather, or how loathsome the kelesh were (and they rather are, aren't they, smelling like horse-sweat with all that soot around their eyes, dreadful
reprobates...) Cordelia resolved to make something of herself. Liberating a stash of silver her parents kept tucked away in the frame of an old clock, she slipped out, intent on doing better for herself.
Three days later, she was broke, shoeless, and seriously considering applying baser talents to secure fare back to Sibarra. The larger world was vastly
more overwhelming than she had imagined. In a last-ditch effort to get her her feet beneath herself, she hitched one last hayride west, towards the shoreside town of Cassomir. There, she found her first "real" job - carrying a torch for a band of foreign barbarians and ne'er do-wells as htye plumbed the dank darkness of some forlorn pit or other. It's one of the few things Cordelia hasn't bothered to remember.
But the pay was handsome. and she got double her fee for having noticed and snipped the wires of some horrible old death trap (had that barbarian not been a mare-thumping Qadiran, maybe he would have noticed, himself; no complaining, though!) And she had to admit, there was something of a... rush
to the whole affair. The second such job took her across the river into Andoran to see about some odd events there involving goblins. it was at this point she had the lark to write to Lorrimar, to tell him of what an inspiration he had been for her, as she settled into this new life.
To her surprise, he wrote back. And more to her surprise, the money she was making managed to stay around more than three days! But what's more, she was seizing life by the throat. she was learning
, she was doing
The sheet is as yet incomplete - i keep wobbling on class, and it's only gotten worse without sleep. However
, I have a sound concept, a good direction, and all that's needed is a long nap before I wrap it up.
(By the by if my groupmates have a preference for Rogue / Bard / Inquisitor / investigator, do pipe up. She could go any of those ways