Freya Audition

Name: Freya Nyneve

Age: 20

Race: Druid

Appearance: Petite and on the short side, with dark brown hair past her shoulders, pale skin and deep brown eyes.

Personality: Shy and quiet, but if drawn out is very friendly. It takes some work to gain her trust, but once gained you won’t easily lose it. Warm hearted and very caring towards those close to her. Quite clumsy, and is quite absentminded along with it. Has a hard time speaking her mind sometimes.

Magic abilities (if any): Is capable of telepathy and some small spells, but must learn more if she is to be any more powerful.

History: (before Camelot) Freya is a quiet druid girl who grew up by a lake beyond the White Mountain range next to Camelot. She lived a peaceful life with her family until a vicious outbreak of the sweating sickness took her parents and little brother, along with most of her village. From there she wandered from druid tribe to druid tribe until she met a man on the roadside. This was the sorceress’s son, and he attacked her after she spurned his attentions. In terror, she hit him on the head with a stick and he fell back onto a rock, cracking his skull and ultimately killing him. His mother was enraged at this discovery and cursed Freya to become a bastet at midnight for the rest of her life.

Running became the only life she knew after this incident, trying to find places to hide where there were few people. No druid tribes would shelter her once they found out about her curse, and she remained alone with no friends for five years. Halig the bounty-hunter eventually captured her, taking her to Camelot in hopes of a high reward from Uther.

Current Location: Lake of Avalon

Current Occupation: Lady of the Lake, guardian of Excalibur, protector of the Isle of Avalon

Roleplay Sample:
The night had been an unusually dark and dreary one for so early in the evening, and Freya was rushing to make her way back to Avalon. Only her imagination was powerful enough to make her fear the dark woods by now, and it conjured a dark rolling cloud that followed just behind. Having spent so much time in woods, running and hiding, it had become a strange kind of home for her. This cloud was enough to make her fear every shadow as they passed. Freya’s once leisurely walk turned into a jog, then to a run. Imagination is sometimes far too powerful for one’s own good, and tonight that was certainly true.

Freya ran until she was out of breath, then walked as fast as she could, looking over her shoulder every few minutes. The fearful memories of being on the run from angered fellow druids and bounty hunters came back every time she peeked. The rush of the wind in her face that whispered “They’re coming for you,” the distant yells of angry voices and the grating sounds of dogs barking, the ominous quiet when it was time to hide for the night. All of it was too much to bear anymore. She began to sprint despite the stitch in her side. Just as she decided to stop her running from shadows, nature was one step ahead of her. Looking over her shoulder one last time, her head whirled around only for her forehead to abruptly crack against the low limb of a tree.

Struggling through twisted and choking fever dreams, Freya finally broke through to oxygen and blinding daylight. Gasping for air, she tried to sit up – only to discover that her head felt like a load of bricks. The previous night came flooding back, and she looked up above to see the branch sticking out worse than a sore thumb. Sighing, she angled herself against the tree’s trunk. This would be a long morning. Afternoon. Whatever it was…..