NAME Cairenn, the Weaver RACE Reachfolk GENDER Female
OCCUPATION Mender of Mind, Body, and Spirit AGE ~33 BIRTHSIGN The Shadow
EYES Muted Blue SKIN Fair, Freckled HAIR Pale Ginger HEIGHT 5'5" BUILD Full, Shapely
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Prodigal child, blessed beneath the sign of the Shadow with naught a moon in the sky to be seen, Cairenn was always meant to rise. The wails of her (Witch)mother joined a litany of chants led by her maker, until bled unto the earth was a babe of strawberry hair and freckled skin. She was Cairenn of Feathered-Fate, and she was sweet. She bore a soft spot for mice and wept when the owls feasted upon them - Were it her choice, she'd keep them all between the folds of her cloaks so that the eyes of the Hunt-Father would never recognize them as prey.Much too caring, much too soft. The Weaver showed her the importance of a kind gaze and gentle words to turn beasts belly-up. It worked best on the men of the south, already made lame once they were conquered. She could find their sorrows with a whisper, hold them in her hands, and then take them for herself as offering for her Mother, who lurked in the shadows and spoke to her from black beaks. She knew then that their purpose was no longer to return to the Reach, even after the last of Durcorach's line perished.She is Cairenn the Weaver, and perhaps she is still sweet - But beneath it is a hunger for sorrow and a promise of something much, much greater, for those willing to make their pain a commodity to the Mistress of Shadows.
| ALIASES | Corinne Vistav |
| TITLES | The Weaver, of Feathered-Fate (former) |
| BIRTHPLACE | Jerall Mountains |
| ALIGNMENT | True Neutral |
| ORIENTATION | Pansexual, monogamous |
| FAITH | Kynareth (publicly), Nocturnal (privately) |
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| MARKINGS........ | Black feathers that curl around her arms, legs, and over her shoulder onto her chest. |
| FEATURES | Sharp and hawkish, with a diamond-shaped face. Fair-skinned, marred heavily by freckles. |
| ATTIRE | Favors long dresses and robes; most simple in design, often colored light blue, brown, silver, and black. |
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| VIRTUES.............. | Genuinely cares about the wellbeing of most (but especially animals). Knows the importance of a soft touch. Confident, collected, and careful. |
| FLAWS | Delusional and self-important; believes she deserves power by birthright alone. Manipulative, with trauma vampire and savior complex tendencies. |
| LIKES | Whiskey. Good conversation, especially those involving stories and secrets. Riddles, prophecies, mysteries. Comfortable silence. "Prey" animals. Chess. |
| DISLIKES | The sea and traveling by ship. Being interrupted. Carelessness and sloppy work, impatience and rash decisions. |
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"How terribly cruel the fox must be to regard the rabbit as though it were a friend."
Cairenn is a woman of contradictions and dualities, her blood mixed with the waters of Lake Rumare and the river Karth. To some, she is Corinne Vistav; a Cyrod dedicated to Kynareth who speaks in the perfect mimicry of a Colovian accent, reciting prophecy derived from the shift in the winds and the pawprints of predator and prey.To others, she is Cairenn, the Weaver. Witch-healer, Daughter of the Night Hag, with strange eyes that peer into shadows and plague her with visions of every possibility of things yet to pass.To most she is both, and it makes her exceptionally strange. A Reachfolk so tamed she may as well be Cyrod, who worships Gods and follows customs that were never hers to claim. She knows the courts of Imperial nobility better than the wilds of the Reach, but it is the Crow that calls to her, always.Bloodied hands set bones and carefully stitch razed skin, accompanied by a kind murmur and an herb to ease the pain. Man and beast aren't all that different, when their eyes bulge from the pain and their breaths become ragged from fear. Cairenn knows this well, and her touch extends far below the surface to ease not just ailments of the body, but those of the mind and soul.
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common ───
"I swore I'd lose all my fingers, but there she was, just as I was about to kiss them goodbye. I don't remember what it was - A prayer? Medicine? Magic? But I woke, and my hands were whole. She gave me something for the pain, and I haven't forgotten the taste of it since."
Chorrol, circa 2E 584"Did you hear what she did for Lord Caesennius? His lands - and his wife - were utterly barren. Most of us were betting on the Caesennius line being finished by the end of the year... And then the Weaver showed up. I don't know what sort of deal she made him, but within the month, his crops were blooming and his wife was with child."
Skingrad, circa 2E 593"She's freakishly superstitious. Hates the sea for some odd reason and won't travel anywhere by boat - Something about anywhere that can't be reached on foot is a place not worth going to. She also prefers to travel in the dead of night! You'd think she's one of those bloodsuckers, the way she hates the daylight, but I've never seen a pair of fangs on her."
Anvil, circa 2E 582
uncommon ───
"Cairenn took to the pain of others like a moth to torchlight. When the Northmen raiders wept, she would weep too... But she'd be the first to string them up to the trees, bleed them dry, and whisper how she was the only one who could truly understand. They'd give themselves willingly, and the sun would shine upon warrior men now shriveled, the worst parts of themselves left to rot."
Jerall Mountains, circa 2E 579"Mother Étaín grows decrepit and the Weaver lost his head ages ago, and the Mother does not speak to us still. The sun sets on our time, and yet Cairenn - having robbed her father of his namesake, even in death - pleads for us to come south once again. She swears our work may not quite be done. She would steal from her own mother her title... But our younger sisters and brothers are beginning to give weight to her promises."
Falkreath Outskirts, circa 2E 593
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common ───
࿐ Mender of Mind, Body, and Spirit - Plying this trade has taken Cairenn to Cyrodiil's most war-torn depths. She's a healer of all varieties: Folk medicine, magicks, surgeries, there's very little she'll balk at when it comes to wounds. Behind closed doors, however, she'll claim that her work goes far beyond the body, and that her soothing touch can banish ailments of the mind and soul. Her methods are known to be... Unconventional, and some patients have still perished after a mere year after seeing her, but she is (objectively) very skilled in her craft.
→ this is a very broad hook that covers the why of cairenn being anywhere she is at any given moment. she's a very trustworthy psychiatrist and may or may not give you way worse than antidepressants.࿐ Adept Animal Handler - Mending doesn't just account for those that wander on two legs. Though she isn't particularly keen on keeping animals on her own, Cairenn has an steady, gentle hand for mending the wings of birds, or the aging joins of old hounds. There's a soft spot in her heart for all of them - And if they can be afforded a few years longer, she'll try her best.
→ she's also a vet, but she'll treat your dog a lot better than you.࿐ Eerie Happenstance - It's some form of mysticism, Cairenn claims; the way she reads the direction of the wind, the stretch of the shadows at sunset, the thrum of hooves and paws in the hills. She listens, and so whispered to her is (allegedly) the will of the land and the will of the Gods. She's been known to recite omens to the courts of the remaining Imperial nobility, and those that listen find themselves with prosperous harvests, quelled riots, and fortune upon them.
→ augury, divination, reading the will of the gods and the lands through totally-not-sus means! pairs hand-in-hand with the uncommon hook below, but this is at face value.
uncommon ───
࿐ Shadow-Blessed of the Night-Hag - They're an obscure coven, but one that has spent far more time within Cyrodiil than ever should have been permitted. It is said they first passed through the Jeralls long before Durcorach ever marched south, and it was their whispers that turned the hearts of the susceptible Imperial nobility. Once the proper Reach Emperors were installed, they acted as shamans and advisors, wise-women and augurs, both within the Imperial City to their Reachblooded kin, and to down on their luck Cyrod aristocrats. Though there are few that remain in Cyrodiil, Cairenn is one of them - and she continues to carry the burden of their intent. She can often be found in the courts of Cyrodiilic nobility that lament times gone by, promises of luck and good fortune spilling from her lips in words that are not quite her own. Always, they come to fruition - But the shadows in those great halls stretch just a little longer.
→ a very obscure coven with very obscure motives and intents. pairs with the Eerie Happenstance hook above - this entire coven were akin to Roman augurs with a mix of some Bene Gesserit witch shit, devoted to Nocturnal but Imperialized due to their proximity to the Nibenese nobiliity.
locations ───
cyrodiil
the reach
strengths ───
࿐ Medicine & Healing Magics - Master
࿐ Speechcraft - Expert
࿐ Shadow Magic - Expert
࿐ Mysticism - Adept
࿐ Stealth - Adept
࿐ Animal Handling - Adept
weaknesses ───
࿐ Thalassophobia
࿐ Most Weapons
࿐ Combat
࿐ Athletics
࿐ Delusional
࿐ Paranoid
an-venhir
apprentice (of sorts)
Visions and voices of things that have yet to pass haunt him as they once haunted me, but I had a careful hand that guided my mind in sorting through which ones were meaningful. I will do unto this Fox as the Weaver did to me....And maybe have my own sort of fun along the way.
volund decentius
emperor-regent | employer
I've thrown my lot in with a variety of nobles, so much so that the titles often matter little. An Emperor, however, would be a first. I've no idea if there is validity to his claim, but I will serve as I always have, and there will be the voice of the Reach in this one's ears.
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seamus the weaver
namesake, father, mentor †
You will be remembered for centuries.
étaín, the shadow-blessed
witch(mother)
When the Weavers were pinioned, you plucked the rest of our feathers like a child delighted by the mere cruelty of it. When it's your turn, I will weave you into my shadowed cloak - Just like the rest of them.
sneachta
precious companion
Brave little rabbit. You follow my footprints through snow and grass, even when you should flee. Be clever, always, Sneachta; there are few as pure as you left.
