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Post by Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha on Dec 21, 2010 17:42:41 GMT -5
With caring eyes Yassia watched Mircea set up the camp aptly and quickly, as he had the previous days. It was almost funny how quickly some sort of routine had established between them, and even funnier how they both seemed to live by it. The place might vary, as might the time of day, but the steps stayed the same. Yassia actually often felt bad just standing there, watching for the most part, but Mircea’s movement were so swift and very well thought through she felt like spoiling it if she lend a hand in her awkward way.
Everyone at court had considered her to be a bit of a wild child, rather staying outdoors and enjoying embroidery or playing with dolls like nice little princesses should, but whatever she had done hadn’t provided her with much means to survive out in the open without guidance. The emphasize had been put too much on the game character of it all.
In the end she just sat down on the log he had so lovingly provided for her, smiling to show her gratitude and sighing in relief as she stretched her sore limbs.
“Goodness gracious… I’ll think you’ll never make a warrior princess out of me. Though, we have only just started, right? One never knows what the future might bring.”
Her face puckered up in mild confusion at his last remark, and her hand subconsciously moved down to her dagger, the only weapon she could probably use. Was he joking? Well, it was only right she would do her fair share of the tasks living on your own provided you with, Mircea wasn’t her servant after all! And if she wanted to pass as a commoner’s girl in the future, she better learned a few things first.
“Well, I could!” she offered. “A rabbit or such I could always kill with a flying dagger, you know my aim!” Yassia was actually lifting herself off the log already, when another thought crossed her mind. As cold as the nights could be there was one thing more important than food. Lighting a fire. She couldn’t even do that, though it looked fairly simple.
“Show me, please !” she demanded, indicating to the flint he was still holding in his hands and lowered herself on her knees in front of the fire, next to him. “You never know what could happen, and lighting a fire is vital to everyone travelling. Plus, if I learn it, I can light a fire next time, so you don’t have to do everything on your own.”
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Post by Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha on Dec 21, 2010 16:26:27 GMT -5
 Yassia raised an eyebrow in mild surprise at the barmaid’s spot on remark of her being a long way from home. Was this a lucky shot or did Yassia really look the foreigner so much? Well, it could be, what with her slightly more olive skin and the brown hair. Many women in Albion were rather blond, she had observed, a color most rare in Ailantha. Her own mother with her beautiful auburn hair that Yassia sadly hadn’t inherited, had been considered a novelty.
The food, though simple it was, smelled like heaven to the starving princess and so for a moment she hungrily dug into it, only listening to the girl’s sweet ways of apologizing for what she had said.
Did she really think she would be angry now? Well, maybe a month or so before, Yassia probably would have been, still used to be treated with respect and even awe. All her life people had weighed their words very well before addressing her in any kind of way, and it had been hard getting used to being treated for what she looked like.
“You’ve got a sharp eye!” she commented with a smile, to show she did not mind the girl jumping to conclusions. “Yes I am a long way from home, and no usually I don’t drink my life away in a tavern… though at the moment I would very much like to…”
The barmaid probably found herself overbearing and so she retreated, and Yassia was actually a little crestfallen. She wouldn’t mind company at all right now, anything to get her off her black mood.
“Oh, please, I am not angry with you, you only told the truth after all. Thanks for the mead and the food. Would you like to come over and sit for a little while once business allows it?”
That was a very unusual offer coming from Yassia, as normally she didn’t want to socialize with people all that much. But this evening was just one of those where she didn’t want to be alone, wallowing in her misery. “I am Yassia by the way!”
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Post by Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha on Dec 21, 2010 9:03:42 GMT -5
Not dare to? Now, what was he getting at?! Was he referring to her considerable temper and made a show if fearing it? Oh wow, that was tough! Somehow Mircea always managed to find exactly the right words to tease her with, just like every brother could. At least that was what her mother had told Yassia once, referring to her own brother, Leon, the very same Yassia was now seeking out.
„Oh, come on, I'm not THAT bad!“ she insisted with a little girlish pout which was followed up by a chuckle to show she was not genuinely upset. At least not that much, the comment had stung of course, but she would be damned if she let it show. So much about her close relationship with Mircea was some kind of a contest in her eyes. Mircea's behaviour was that kind of example she wanted to follow suit, and it always made her excel herself. That was just how it should be right?
This time she chose to let him help her off the horse, placing her hands gently on his shoulders and giving herself a little helping push as his strong hands closed around her waist. Getting down from sitting side-saddle was actually easier than mounting up into this position, but which girl did not like to be treated like a lady? There was a time for assertiveness and there was a time for chivalrous gestures. And with Yassia giving up her role of Princess for the time being the need for such gestures was even more evident. It was so very sweet of Mircea to try and keep up appearances in such a way, as if nothing was wrong, trying to spare her as much hardship as possible. Truly, which girl didn't want to have such a loving brother?
„Oh, you can't?“ she commented as soon as her feet touched the ground. „Now that leaves me with quite the dilemma doesn't it? I mean, you deserve to be a Conte more than anything and your chivalrous behaviour right now just proves you are one born and bred!“
She turned around to affectionately pet her chestnut mares neck before she fastened her reins to a nearby brush, then her attention returned to Mircea.
„But today I need you to be my Chef, else we both starve!“ She made it sound more dramatic than it actually was. Oh yes, she would not get a full decent meal anytime soon, but that was a minor concern compared to the thought of being dragged to marry her detestable cousin because her power hungry uncle wanted to rule her kingdom.
„Can you live with that? Oh, and don't worry, I don't aspire a three course menu!“ she added with her most blasé voice. „Two will have to do!“
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Post by Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha on Dec 20, 2010 22:48:42 GMT -5
Was he really serious? For a moment Yassia cocked her head like a sparrow, eyeing Mircea intently as he claimed to be tired. Was that his way of allowing her to be weak without losing her face? Or was she thinking far too far and it was really only his poor body he was talking about? Then again, Mircea was a warrior and he was a bad liar to boot. If Yassia was in doubt about his intentions then they had to be questionable. Simple as.
But how to react to that now? The stubborn part of Yassia voted to show off a bit, showing him that she could do better than him, insisting on riding on. Then there was the more reasonable part that urged her to relent and save her strength. This was only the beginning after all.
“Oh you are? Well, in that case…” she trailed off, grinning at him. “I MIGHT feel inclined to grant this request. If only to not make you reconsider and leave me here because you yearn for your cozy bed!”
As if Mircea ever would leave her! That was so out of question the thought only graced Yassia’s mind for a mere split second. This was their journey, their big adventure, however sad the circumstances were. They would succeed together or they would fail together, but none would have to fend for his own. That was a given.
“So, why don’t you just strain your hawk eyes and search for a nice little place to stop by, Conte de Fremente?” she took up the joke, addressing him with his full title. Mircea had become heir to this title the moment his father had died even if the ceremony of officially granting him the estate and title of Fremente had not been held yet. It had been something Yassia’s father had intended to do before he died. The first act of her reign, she had decided long ago, would be to hold that special ceremony, to finally give Mircea what he deserved for his service that surpassed all means of simple loyalty.
Yassia slackened the reins of her horse and looked around, intending to help Mircea with his search for a camp ground.
“Oh, and now that we’re at it, I feel slightly hungry. What’s on the menu, Chef Mircea?”
One of Yassia’s biggest flaws concerning the circumstances was that she had no idea how to cook, not even the slightest. Her feeble attempts in the beginning, born out of the assumption who could concoct remedies could not be a bad cook either had quickly led to Mircea taking over this particular duty. As soon as they got father away from home they could afford to visit taverns, but for now they had to rely on each others skills.
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Post by Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha on Dec 20, 2010 22:13:23 GMT -5
Now that Mircea mentioned it, Yassia could feel fatigue creeping up on her like a very unwanted guest. Yes, she was tired, as she had not gotten much sleep the previous nights. It was such a hard thing to get used to, sleeping out in the open, not surrounded by thick, secure walls, but only by the vast plains that formed a vast amount of Ailantha and the adjoining kingdoms. Yassia knew that those plains would vanish soon, being replaced by steep mountains and then hills, other mountains and finally plains again that lead directly to waters people called the Northern Sea.
Even with Mircea close by the sheer thought of being well nigh defenseless in a rough area had frightened the Princess so much she had never got into the sound sleep she was used to, bolting upright with every unknown sound far or near.
But tired and weary as she might be, Yassia was too stubborn to ever mention such things to her stepbrother, let alone pleading him to stop early for the night. She might be a girl and a spoilt one at that, but she would not be the reason for them getting caught before they even started much on their journey! Oh no, she would simply bite it back, the hurting backside from hours and hours on horseback and the likewise hurting and cramping legs. She would smile away her fears and force down the fatigue! She was not weak! If all went well she would become Queen of Ailantha very soon, and as a queen she needed to set an example! This could well be seen as the ultimate test if she was worthy of the crown.
“No, not tired at all!” she appeased him quickly and shifted in her saddle. “I can go as far as sundown and even farther if need be! Whenever you think is appropriate to rest for the night, Mir!”
Yes, she really trusted him completely, more than she ever had trusted her real brother, Ramon. Why that was the case Yassia couldn’t tell, but there really was no use in pondering over it either. Maybe it was the way he had always been there when she needed him, this journey only being the last of many examples. Or maybe it was because she knew him better than anyone else, probably even better than his own mother. She seemed to possess some kind of special key to his heart. Most people would call Mircea brash, or even arrogant and unkind. Yassia knew better. Behind his raptor eyes lay the most gorgeous and loyal soul anyone could imagine.
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Post by Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha on Dec 20, 2010 21:34:34 GMT -5
Had it really been such a good idea? That doubts about her doings would torment Yassia this early in their flight she wouldn’t have imagined. Not that she wanted to return to Taykhe – far be that thought from her mind! – but still… the excitement of the actual flight had wore off, and slowly Yassia began to realise this was not a game, nor had it ever been one.
She had drawn the line under the last few weeks, where things had reached an unbearable climax. Uncle Guifré had left nothing undone to persuade Yassia to marry her cousin Stéphane, and better yesterday than tomorrow! How he had almost stalked her in the dark corridors of the castle still sent shivers down her spine. Hadn’t he possessed at least an ounce of integrity, the princess could have sworn he would have dragged her to bridal bed himself – to become HIS wife. But no, even Guifré couldn’t fosake every law in the land, he just had a wicked way of circumventing them…
The low thudding of horsehooves had lulled her into some kind of trance, rethinking the cursed events of her life, but now she awoke from it and shook all memories of the past off. Sneaking a sideglance at her stepbrother Mircea, a warm glowing of affection warmed her heart, chasing away the looming shadows. How blessed a girl could be to have such a caring elder brother who took it upon him to keep her safe on the troublesome journey that lay in front of them. Yassia knew she had to give Mircea much credit for not laughing her childish rebellion off, telling her to lay low and accept her irrevocable fate. He had done no such thing, it had actually been HIM coming up with the rough outline of their plan when the Princess had been nothing but a distraught bag of nerves seeking comfort with the only person she knew she could trust completely.
Now, even through all the imminent danger of getting caught and dragged back towards her doom, there was still this inkling of hope: With Mircea protecting her she would be able to reach that foreign land of Albion of which she didn’t know much more than that it lay northwest of her own home and that one had to cross a channel to get there as it proved to be a huge island. Oh how she wished to have payed more attention whenever her mother had told her about the land where she came from! Every tidbit of information now could decide between failure and success of the whole venture.
“Mircea!” she called lowly and indicated to the road ahead of them. “How much farther do you think we’ll get today?”
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Post by Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha on Dec 20, 2010 18:31:08 GMT -5
If anyone had ever been in the mood to start a swansong, it would be Yassia. Her feet hurt, she was wet and shivering and the little money she had earned today by helping a young girl with a sprained ankle wouldn’t last much longer than through this very night, maybe it wasn’t even enough to get her a bed for the night. She could always offer to work for the money, or give away a few remedies – the little she had left – but some stubborn part in Yassia still refused to be seen as the lowest kind of commoner girl, and treated as such! She could already hear the suggestive comments in her mind that seemed to turn up every time she even so much as mentioned the subject of working. Wasn’t there anything else left in a man’s head?
And anyway, why on earth hadn’t she aquiesced to marrying her wretched cousin? She couldn’t be far worse off than now! It all had seemed so very simple in the beginning, the idea to journey to Camelot, with Mircea to protect and care for her if need be, not much more than a walk down into the park! Oh how very naïve she had been! To think that she could make it alone unscathed, that nothing would happen to her even if she was all on her own.
Yassia had been living in a golde cage all her life, so the harsh reality had shocked her quite a bit and left her bitter. How would she ever find her way towards Camelot in that state? And even if she did get there, would anyone take notice of her? She looked like a nameless beggar for crying out loud, who said her uncle Leon or anyone for that matter would believe her story?
Like this, she had been sitting in the corner, brooding for quite some time. The barmaid seemed to be too busy to take notice of her. Typical. For a woman who had been growing up to be waited on hand and foot this was another bitter pill to swallow. But at least one she has grown used to the past. Better go unnoticed and be overlooked than being recognized for who she was and taken hostage in the worst case. No, she was rather Yassia, the penniless wanderer than Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha, chained princess waiting to be taken back home without any chance to claim what was hers.
“Excuse me, Miss?” she called out, her voice laced with her former authority she just couldn’t get rid of even if she wanted. A princess born and bred could only hide so much. “Could I have a tankard of mead and something to eat?”
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Post by Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha on Dec 15, 2010 21:36:31 GMT -5
Today was the day. The day were everything Yassia had been through in the last couple of months finally would come to a reasonable end. This was what she had been waiting for, dreaming of and hoping with all her might. Sir Leon, her uncle was the only man in the world she could think of to help her. From what her mother had told her about her family back in Albion, her brother had just started his training to become a knight of Camelot when she had left for Ailantha. By now, he surely would be a member of the court of Camelot, and maybe even in a position where he could afford to help his niece… if he ever got over the shock of learning to have one at all, that was.
Yassia so wished Mircea would be here right now. Not only would he be able to calm her fluttering nerves but he would also prove a valuable help. She had not expected to this all on her own, but ever since washing ashore on the big island called Albion she had had to learn to fend for her own and she had been in more than just one tight spot. Wasn’t revealing herself to her unknown uncle a walk in the park compared to that? It should be… but that didn’t help the princess in the slightest.
The last night she had spent in a tavern in the lower towns of Camelot, called “The Rising Sun” as it had been too late to appear at court in her eyes. Better to get a good nights sleep and work on some kind of plan before she barged in there blue eyed. The name of the tavern had seemed like a good omen to Yassia, maybe now the sun of her fate would finally rise up again?
Now she made her way towards the castle, and as she was wearing the most decent clothes she had been able to bring with her all the way, no matter what hardship she had endured the guards at the gate didn’t give her a second glance. The dress was not luxuriant in any way, plain but clean and maybe marked her a lady of lower nobility. It would have to do for now.
As soon as she had stepped through the gate, another thought occurred to her. How to find her uncle? All she knew was his name: Sir Leon Griffiths, but she didn’t know how he would look like, only the rough description she got from her mother years ago.
Gladly a passing soldier proved to be very happy to help her out and described the way towards the training ground.
As soon as she got there, there was no mistaking him. The hair of the man seemingly in charge and the features of his face reminded her so much of her mother it sent a painful sting through Yassia’s stomach. She had to get to him, before they started fighting!
“Excuse me, Sir Leon?” she called out, her voice a little quivering as she approached. This was the moment! Now everything depended on the first impression she made.
“Could you spare a minute of your time for me?” Yassia tried to smile, but she was not sure if the nervousness showed all too clearly.
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Post by Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha on Dec 11, 2010 17:52:34 GMT -5
“Here, miss, your stew!”
Yassia broke from her reverie and directed a thankful smile at the bartender who had sauntered over to deliver her evening meal. The wandering princess could feel her stomach ache at the thought of finally eating, even if a year before such a simple food might have been well considered below her. But this would be the first decent meal in two days as she had to keep house with the little money that was left. Camelot might not be that far away, but Yassia had been lost before, straying for days until some kind sould had pointed her towards the right direction again.
She was about to take up the wooden spoon and dig into the stew when she heard the man standing behind her clear his throat. As she looked up questioningly he said a little awkwardly. “Would you mind paying in advance? Also for your room? No offense, but…”
“None taken, Sir!” Yassia interrupted and felt on her belt for her purse. She had had similar situations before, times were that bad people actually stooped to bilking on regular basis and the landlords had to sit it through, it was their loss. Her hand moved over her hip absentmindly and – felt nothing! Where was her purse?! Panic struck her stomach like an iron fist and she frantically felt again, darting her eyes downwards to check – nothing!
“I’m sorry, I…” her voice quivered as she searched the dim lit room for a sign of the dark brown bag that had hold her last few coins. This could only be a nightmare! There was no way she could have lost her purse just like that! Unless… now she suddenly remembered a scene right as she had entered the tavern, some man bumping into her, making an odd show of checking if she was alright. She had only thought he had wanted the body contact, but now she realised: He had snatched her purse right this very moment!
“Now what’s it to be? Will you pay or not?” The voice of the landlord had lost all friendliness, now he was all the businessman guarding his gain.
“Someone stole my purse!” Yassia insisted but realised herself how lame those words sounded. His reaction was one she had dreaded but it was only consisted. With an eyeroll he took the wonderfully smelling bowl away, saying: “Well, then I am sorry, Miss, but there is no exception. No money, no food!”
“But I swear it’s true!” The Princess’ voice now sounded desperate. “And it’s already late, where shall I sleep? Sir, please!”
Other men in the tavern had taken notice of the little drama and were slowly surrounding the table where Yassia was sitting like a culprit. “Hey, sweetheart, what about you sleep in my bed tonight and if you’re nice enough I might get you some breakfast in the morning!” one of them who clearly had too much to drink suggested with a sleazy grin, and the fellow customers broke out in roaring laughter and suggesting whistles.
No one seemed to take offense in that outragious behaviour, clearly, even the landlord was more concerned about getting his money than anything else. Like she had recalled earlier, the times where that bad. Whether she found some ‘other’ ways to pay or she slept under the brushes – it was not his problem to think of.
Closing her eyes Yassia sent a short prayer to anyone who might hear. Could it really be she, Yassia Dyfrène, princess and designated queen of Ailantha had sunk so low? Would no one help her out of this? |
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Post by Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha on Nov 30, 2010 23:25:55 GMT -5
 | ~ • ~ | Character Basics | ~ • ~ |
.:Name of Character:.
Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha
.:Nick Name:. Yassi, Yass, Prinčesa
.:Age:. 21
.:Status:. Royalty
| ~ • ~ | Appearance | ~ • ~ |
.:Physical Appearance:.
Yassia is of average height and slender, showing the stringy appearance of someone who’s been on her way for quite some time, wandering without true hardship but still without a luxurious life. Her hair is chocolate brown, a bit fairer now than usual, as she had spent much time under the sun, and it falls in waves down to her waist. Her eyes are of a mix between brown and seagreen, the colors actually coalescing in a most intricate way, looking at the world with a strong will hidden behind them. As her kingdom is close to the mediterranian sea, her skin shows a color between olive, rose and pale, very difficult to define, but matching perfectly with the rest of her appearance.The clothes she usually wears are plain but still giving away her high status, most of the time comfortable walking clothes, a tunic and pantskirts. Once she has reached Camelot she will of course dress in a princess garments again
.:Height:. 5’9’’
.:Portrayed by:. Odette Yustman
| ~ • ~ | Personality | ~ • ~ |
.:Personality:.
Before her life took a definite turn for the worse, Yassia would have been considered the typical princess: Used to give orders and seeing them obeyed, a little spoilt but never exploiting her position in a way that could be seen as cruel or vain. She was well liked amongst the people of Ailantha, though she never had any commoners as friends. Her biggest flaw was maybe a strong temper, inherited from her father. She was not throwing tantrums, but she could start a heated argument whenever she felt like it – and that was not a rare occasion. Those fits were also the only time you could catch her behaving unseemly, yelling lowerclass cusswords at the ones vexing her. But she always apologized afterwards, doing her very best to not cross people for long.
Yassia’s greatest fear is to lose her confident position of freedom, and she guards her privileges with teeth and claws. But when she sees her struggles to be invain she rather flees to seek help elsewhere than giving in – the very thing she did when leaving Ailantha.
Ever since she took up the life of a wanderer, she has matured and changed, seeming more thoughtful and introverted to people who meet her. Inside she is still the same, proud and a free spirit, but the hardship of her new life has shown her not to take everything for granted. Also, she doesn’t want most people to know who she is before she has reached Camelot safely, for fear of being taken hostage or worse.
.:Strengths:.
surviving out on her own, healing with herbs, casting daggers, loyal
.:Weaknesses:.
her strong will, her sense of freedom, scared of spiders, a considerable temper
.:Magic Abilities:. none
.:Special Skills:. concocting very effective herbal remedies, keeping rogues off her with well-placed daggers
.:Accents:. a weird mix between a french and spanish way to sound certain consonants
| ~ • ~ | History | ~ • ~ |
.:Birthplace:. Taykhe, capital of Ailantha
.:Family:.
Father: Diodore Dyfrène, King of Ailantha (recently deceased)
Mother: Rhiannon Dyfrène, née Howard, former Queen of Ailantha (deceased six years ago)
Brother: Ramon Dyfrène, Crown Prince of Ailantha (deceased six years ago)
Stepmother: Amaranta Condesa de Fremente (queen dowager)
Stepbrother: Mircea de Fremente
.:Occupation:. wanderer
.:Current Location of Residence:.
on the roads towards Camelot / Camelot City (depending on thread)
.:History:.
Yassia was born into the perfect life of a small kingdom’s princess, having everything she wanted and a loving family to boot. She was not under the pressure of being the future leader of Ailantha, like her four years older brother Ramon was raised and educated to be, so her days were filled with playing and literally doing everything she liked to do. That this privilege turned her into a bit of a wild child needn’t be said. Still, she took a certain liking to healing also, learning the skills from her mother who had brought them with her from her foreign birthland Albion.
Things however changed brutally in the year Yassia was turning 15. Ramon was taking up the honor of accompanying his mother personally to a visit of a noble lady a few day’s ride from the capital city of Taykhe with only a few other guards. Times were considered peaceful and safe, but they soon should learn what an utter misconception that was. Two adjoining kingdoms had just signed a peace treaty and were dimissing their troops. Now the mercenaries found themselves without occupation and flocked together, starting raiding parties wherever they roamed. Ramon and Rhiannon were unlucky enough to cross paths of such a mercenary group, and them, seeing only the profit in such a party, attacked without a second thought, slaughtering everyone.
The whole kingdom of Ailantha was in shock as something like that was without compare in all their history. King Diodore, feared for his temper and blind in grief, lashed out with all his force, making it his personal aim to wipe out the entire mercenary population he could possibly reach. His counterstrike went down in history as the “Mercenary Doom”, the first war-like state Ailantha had been in for centuries. Suddenly the small kingdom was without an heir, as the laws prohibited a woman to take up the throne. Only Yassia’s future husband could claim the crown and so pressure was suddenly high on Yassia’s side, even though she was not of maritable age yet.
After a year of mourning King Diodore married again, surprising everyone with this move. His new queen was the Contesa Amaranta de Fremente, always having been a close friend of the royal family. Her son Mircea and Yassia had known each other before, so they didn’t mind becoming step siblings.
Things started to go back to normal for Yassia, as she believed her stepmother would surely bear a child soon. However, Amaranta miscarried a few times and then disaster striked again – in the very meaning of the word this time. King Diodore, always been healthy and still considered in prime age, was hit by a crippling stroke out of the blue and died only a few short days after. Peaceful Ailantha fell prey to chaos almost overnight.Guifré, Diodore’s younger brother had always fancied the throne, even if Ailanthian law prohibited succession of siblings if there were heirs, be they male or female.As an attempt to change this laws was overruled by the king’s council he took refuge to other means.
Yassia’s husband would be the heir apparent, and just having turned 21, the princess was more than able to carry out her duty for her country. Guifré now seeked permission to marry Yassia to his only son, which would give him the power over Ailantha just as well.Yassia was distraught but unable to sway the council into dimissing this, in their eyes, reasonable solution. Guifré at the same time left no stone unturned to convince – or rather force – Yassia to agree to this marriage.In the end, the princess sought help with her stepbrother Mircea, who agreed to flee with her, taking her safely to a kingdom called Albion. There, a brother of her mother was a valued and mighty knight, and Yassia hoped he would be able to help her reclaim what was hers to take.
Weeks after weeks they spent travelling, crossing the continent towards the north, always hiding from possible pursues Guifré sent after them.While crossing the sea towards the British Isles Yassia and Mircea got into a mighty storm crashing their boat, and when Yassia awoke cast away, Mircea was gone. Refusing to believe he was dead she waited for three full days but then decided to move on towards Camelot alone. As Mircea had been carrying most of their money and other goods Yassia was well-nigh penniless, spending the following weeks fighting to survive like an outlaw.It’s still written in the stars if she will reach Camelot unscathed, but every day brings her closer to her destination, and hopefully: help.
However, when Yassia finally arrived in Camelot, she witnessed most troublesome times. There were countless threats of magical source or other important things going on, the return of the Lady Morgana being only the beginning. Her uncle Sir Kay welcomed her gladly once he had worked over the initial shock, but he could not promise her quick help and Yassia soon learned why. With Camelot seemingly being under constant attack, King Uther Pendragon could not spare any soldiers for a far-away mission of unknown outcome and so told she was told wait and enjoy a break from her travelling. Times though never seemed to calm down, and though Yassia seemed to come closer to her goal of finding help when Lady Morgana took over the kingdom for a short period of time, as Morgana was rightfully dethroned and King Uther restored, Yassia now is back to day one, but hoping that with Arthur in charge for the time being, her tide might turn soon.
For the time being she lives as a guest on the Griffith’s estate which is not far from Camelot and she visits the court regularly to be close to her ever-busy uncle Leon, but still praying everyday that the next day will bring the news she yearns for: that Camelot can spare a handful soldiers to win back her kingdom.
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