(Extract from) Biography of Adreanne

Original Work of amanda.faith

Status: Background story taken from longer Biography of (mage) Adreanne. Other information (HP, MP, ExP, SP, class, Lv, Inventory, Victories/Kills, etc) not included.




Adreanne subconsciously pulled at her new attire that she dorned loosely over her tanned skin whilst she wasn't training. A simple floor length dress with long sleeves and a rope like belt stood between her and the draft that crept through the corridors of the church. Her ring cross hung on a thin cord around her neck, well polished in some areas from frequent fingering out of unease. She bit a corner of her lip as she stepped out onto a sort of balcony and leaned over the low wall to watch the empty cobblestone streets below.

It was only late afternoon but already people had stepped off the streets into whatever safety they could find. The young women knew how they felt, she had been forced to do that for many nights before she had found sanctuary here. But even the church was not all that safe - she had overheard something about that a few days ago.

Adreanne's fingers went over and over the ring cross again. The metal pendent was her only bane against one of her worse fears; the vampires, living corpes that fed on others to survive. Her fingers closed tightly against her security blanket and continued to pace. She had no memory of her past. All that she remembered was this:

There had to be a purpose for her. Adreanne hugged herself as she pulled her cloak inwards for warmth. Hard heeled boots cluttered against the cobblestone walk as she wandered down the streets alone. A blinding flash of dark flung her against the wall of a nearby abandoned shophouse. Whoever had knocked her off her feet had either rescued her from a certain death or, if it had been a vampire, decided that she had not been a worthy victim for she had awoken later on under daylight in the safety of her makeshift home. Whichever good samariten had found her had apparently known where she lived too. Pressing her finger tips to her temples Adreanna looked up at the crude murals she had attempted to decorate the delapidated basement.

The theme had been simple; Greece. Adreanne had always had some sort of fancy for the ancient world, and marvelled at the developments and creations of the past that the ancient ones had managed to create in the absence of modern technology. But as for their superstitions... Their idea of Astrology was alright, some still believed in it today. But as for their myths and legends... some were reasonably acceptable and heroic in nature, others were simply ridiculas. Greece had been the land from which the basic notes of music birthed, where philosophy spilled from the lips of Greek scholars and the basic theories of mathematics too were discovered there. The first advances of theatre from the prehistoric world to the first performances on stage and the origins of the Olympics also began in ancient Greece. Although it’s glorious days were long past gone, there was still some sort of memory of the ancient empire, and ironically, the city in which she now lived in was now in a similar state as the once glorious world of the Greeks – in ruins.

Whatever hope Greece had represented for the future had perished with the rise of the Roman empire and likewise, whatever hope she had had of surviving to a better future seemed to crumble before her as the vampires continued in their rise. Just like Pompey had vanished and erased from the surface by a violent, unexpected eruption, Adreanne’s past lay burried somewhere in the debris that covered her home town. Her only home now, was the church of St Micheal where new memories and experiences lay waiting to be made. She wasn’t sure where she would wind up at the end of her journey in this troubled world, but like they said, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, and her first step was here. She had much to learn, but little time.