Sylvia Chandelle

Your name is Sylvia Chandelle. You were born into a sisterhood called the Temple of Nev's Daughters. After being fed up with their constant exploitation of your fire powers, you escaped and decided to live a Merchant's life in Northern Averia's Saffron Lane. [[Start The Game]]

<img src="https://64.media.tumblr.com/4c9a1471ccdc054715bba5724192d01d/50d81faa66b7bb15-9e/s2048x3072/32da9b687b27f1318e737ec854e550724745ea8b.pnj" class="candle"> This is where your story begins. Having broken out from a cultish sisterhood, you now wish to master the market and attain as much wealth as you can. Luxurious castles and palace dress call your name. You start a business in Averia's most popular trade District, called [[Saffron Lane.]] You cultivate your niche in the market selling the finest silks and tapestries money can buy. With your power over fire, you burn intricate designs onto lengths of woven cloth that sell for top dollar. No other fabric shops have been able to beat you in this regard. [[Continue|Inciting Incident]]

One day, a friend and the head of the Artisanal Guild, //Newt Vallenia// approaches you. She tells you of a meeting between Merchant Guild leaders of Saffron Lane's Market Place. They're going to discuss the annual arrival of the High Priestess. The meeting will occur at midnight. [[Go To The Meeting. ->ch_01]] (enchant: ?Link, (hover-style:(text-style:'italic'))) (enchant: "Newt Vallenia", (color: #516fb5))

<img src = "https://files.catbox.moe/9mg3kq.jpg" id="market"> ''Saffron Lane'' A bustling marketplace full of everything anyone could ever need. All the way from Exciting new dishes, to top-quality alluring fashion, delicate pearl necklaces and sparkling silver rings. The district is separated into different blocks, which are controlled by their respective Merchant Guilds. The Farmer's Guild oversees vegetables, herbs and fibers like wool and cotton. They also oversee animal trade like chicken and fish. Newt Vallenia runs the Artisanal Guild, she's a pretty girl with long sage green hair and a keen eye for fashion. But don't let her charming looks decieve you, she'll be the first one to cut a crooked deal and let you leave with yesterday's scraps. The Artisanal Guild specializes in Artistic goods like paintings, fashion and furniture. The Harvest Guild sells natural materials like gems and wood. Cyrus Blackwood oversees the Mercernaries of the guild. He's a big, dishevelled looking man with slick black hair. He's never seen without his tobacco and pipe. The Mercenerary Guild, sells elicit services... [[Back->Start The Game]]

<img src ="https://64.media.tumblr.com/4c8d789e655dd41c0b2b7c1fe4009383/140842fe3fec7653-f9/s640x960/b3fe03de7ea36bf3ad0f72f9aeb71ceee8ac884e.jpg"> On a trail outside of town, a large brown tent is erected. You walk up with Newt and a single lantern in your hand. A man outside it takes one look at Newt and smiles. "So nice to see you my dear. Come straight in! They're just about to start." He lifts up the flap of the tent and you both step inside. The fabric of the tent must be ridiculously thick, because once you step inside all of the chatter and bustle of the people inside floods through. Two men are arguing with eachother off to the side of the tent, with some onlookers ear-hustling their way into the conversation. "She'll want a gift! Won't she?" "I bet you I'll get her blessing first!" The tent roars in argument and people start to square up. Suddenly, a booming voice cuts through all of the noise. "Where is your civility! Will everyone [[shut the hell up?"->ch_02]]

The crowd falls silent. The man in the middle is hunched over with a scowl on his face. His hand rests on a circular table in the middle of the room. On that table is a minituare map of Saffron Lane, with little wooden houses and paved stone streets... He lifts his head and smoothes his hair over. Newt, with her head held high, struts to the table. "Priestess-jitters getting to you Cyrus? "I've been trying to tell everyone that the ceremony will be fine, just like it always is. But some of these //chittering monkeys// are keen on losing it anyway." He eyes the two men that were arguing in the corner. "Oh don't be so harsh! Everyone always gets a little tense around this season. Old Agatha will make her rounds to our stalls and give us Baal's blessing. Quick and Easy. I don't see how this year will be any different." Newt always had a sly relaxed tone. Her words could put anyone at ease. Cyrus doesn't seem to ease up at all. "We can't give Sister Agatha the runaround this year, she isn't doing the blessings anymore. They've initiated a new one." "Excuse me?!" The smile Newt had on her face quickly shriveled into a pruneish pout. [[Her name is Priestess Yumiera->ch_03]]

//Yumeira// You recognize that name as your underling in the sisterhood. She belonged to the Temple of Nev's Daughters, that distant "holy" castle on the hill. The same Temple you burnt to the ground. Yumeira was a pupil among the sisters, a bright girl who diligently studied the holy texts and served the Temple with all her might. When all the priestesses were made to be oblivious to your pain, she seemed to listen, seemed to care. But she was powerless to stop their exploitation. What do you recall? [[The searing hot iron chambers they locked me in. ->burned feet]] [[The constant ritual draining of my powers. ->Ritual Draining of Power]] [[The starvation, the biting thirst that kept me choked.->The Starvation]] (set: $burn to false) (set: $drained to false) (set: $starved to false)

At noon they would lock you in a chamber with a floor made of rusted iron. The air was dry and it always smelled like charred meat. When the sun was directly overhead, it would scorch the floor beneath your feet. Your soles would singe as the heat of the metal grew unbearable. They waited to see how much pain you could take before collapsing. You were more resistant to fire than most, but that didn't mean you were invincible. The "evaluations" of your body's resistance wore you down to the bone. To this day, the bottom of your feet are still [[charred black...->ch_04]] <audio src="https://files.catbox.moe/ku7duf.mp3" autoplay loop> (set: $burn to true)

(set: $drained to true) Nev's Daughters pride themselves on their god-given power of healing. When you were a child, they realized you didn't have the power to heal, and instead burned everything you touched. They saw this as a rare talent, and resigned to treat you more like a test subject than a child. Instead, they would place you in the middle of a ritual circle, and drained your power as a sacrifice to the patron Goddess Nevulae. After a week they would leave you alone and let your power regenerate, but then would go back and do the same thing over and over, sapping more power from you each time. The rituals left you feeling powerless and weak. Somedays you pray that the Goddess favors you for this sacrifice, even if it was [[against your will.->ch_04]]

When you were deprived of food, your powers would grow hazardous and unpredictable. The Head Priestesses of the sisterhood knew this and would test the limits of how hot your fire burned. Without a week of food, your fire could burn white hot. You have no idea why this did this, another method of endless "measurement" of "progress." And to what end? They were supposed to be holy devotees of God. What part of God would let her creation be hurt so? [[You Still Don't Know.->ch_04]] (set: $starved to true)

You think about Yumeira's impending arrival. What does she want? Is she after you? You can no longer trust anyone that comes from the Sisterhood. Their temple was burned, but like rats they scurried and popped back up somewhere else. It makes you want to stamp them out. "Sylvia?" You snap back to reality. The meeting is over. All of the Merchant Guilds have decided that they're all going to gift the new Priestess with extravagant gifts in order to earn her favor. Newt snaps in front of your face. "Hello? What's with you?" "-It's nothing. " [[What will you do?->TBC]]

To be continued.... [[Restart Game?->Untitled Passage]]