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Gwynevive Cotorelle

PLAYED BY: Jennifer Schneiderman
CHARACTER NAME: Gwynevive Cotorelle
GENDER: Female
CLASS: Mage
AGE: 24
RACE: Syndar
HAIR: Brown
EYES: Green
OCCUPATION: Student, nomad
KNOWN SKILLS: Arcane magic, Lore, Deciphering Magic, Meditation, archery, blacksmithing, and survival.
BIRTHPLACE: Fire Island
APPEARANCE: Serous Syndar with small pointed ears, living with the humans for several years, she has adopted some of their manner of dress. She prefers to keep some of her hair braided to avoid any interference with shooting.
RELATIONSHIPS: Traveling companions with Cordyn Lockwell (Cody Jackson)

Gwynevive was born on Fire Island during the summer of 242 and had, by all accounts, an undisrupted a childhood possible for her people. From an early age, she enjoyed exploring and learning, pestering the adults to teach her everything they could about flora, fauna, and archery, she particularly enjoyed cataloging and calling after the birds on the island. On her 10th birthday, the Magis found Gwynevive had a knack for arcane magic, and began her formal training. Following her year, Gwynevive continued to take classes in arcane magic, retreating to the forest to practice, and occasionally the forge. She had become fond of the blacksmith, though he was really more of a crude weapon maker with such few resources on the island. In return for some assistance with fashioning broken weapons into arrowheads, he allowed her to practice her magic in the clearing behind his forge (accidentally setting fire to a table on an early attempt of a push spell at school had put her on a kind of blacklist outside of the classroom). He taught her to conserve all available resources, something she took to heart, from saving the metal shavings from the workshop floor to create jewelry, to conserving her mana until it was truly needed. Gwynevive continued to create, and learn, but when first contact was made with the humans in 261, she felt as though the world she had come to know was turned on its head.
Everything she had heard from her parents and the elders had been confirmed, other races, other people were out there. She felt as though the entire world had become so much larger, and she was so much smaller in comparison. When the first traders announced they would come to the island, she rushed to the scene in as dignified a manner as possible. The humans seemed gruff and loud to her, but she didn’t care. She had brought with her some of her arrow heads and jewelry that the blacksmith had deemed appropriate enough quality. Of course, her being so young, it was far from the most elegant work there. The humans seemed more interested in the cloth, bows, and arrows of some of the older, more experienced Syndar than her. Not to be discouraged, she set her wares on a woven mat and began to absentmindedly whittle before being interrupted by one of the humans.
“What have you got there?” Gwynevive looked up at the salty and leathery-skinned human above her, completely unable to speak. How dare he address her in such a direct and rude manner!
He smiled down at her, “you make that yourself?” Why was he smiling at her like that?! It was such a big smile, she could see all his teeth, he looked ridiculous.
Unable to tell if he was making fun of her or not, Gwynevive’s eyes widened, whether out of anger or astonishment she couldn’t rightfully say. She tried to speak but something inside her vocal cords wasn’t working, all she could muster was a nod. She turned back to the piece of wood in her hands while the human furrowed his brow and shifted from foot to foot. He knelt down to get a better look, Gwynevive noticed that he had already purchased a few bows and mats from the other Syndar, and pushed down the indignation she felt. He was humoring her.
“My wife might like this, is it for sale?” The man asked, picking up a small ring with a branch etched around the outside. Gwynevive looked at the man and nodded a second time. The man rifled through a bag on his hip, and pulled out a small bar of iron. Gwynevive tried her best to contain her excitement, though clearly she had let something show. The man showed her his toothy smile again and extended the iron to her.
“Why don’t you make me some more, and I’ll come back for them?” Gwynevive looked back and forth from the man’s face to the iron, trying to gauge him. Her mind was racing; she held her hand aloft and slowly nodded a third time.
The man’s name, Gwynevive later learned, was Jermaine Cotorelle, and he lived at Crows’ Landing. Over the next two years, he would come on nearly every other trade shipment to Fire Island, always making sure to stop by Gwynevive’s mat before the end of his stay. Initially, he had taken some getting used to, but over time, she had learned to accept his rough and tumble mannerisms. He liked touching the other humans, she noticed, often slapping them and guffawing loudly. When he came to see her, he would do most of the talking, telling her about Crows’ Landing, and his new exploits on the mainland. She learned about Ulven and Mordoc, and heard tales of a multitude of races living together. Jermaine always brought small payments for her work, a “maker’s fee” as it were. But more importantly, the new iron that came with him was far superior to what she had to work with on the island. All in all, she grew to look forward to his visits, and began sharing her stories with him of her childhood, even showing him some simple magic, when he asked. As her work got better, he started bringing more payments and larger bars of iron, she asked if it was a hassle to travel with such heavy cargo, to which he shrugged and told her not to worry. After two years of trade, Gwynevive struck a second bargain with Jermaine. In exchange for her work and protection; room and board, and safe passage to the mainland.
Something weighed heavy on Gwynevive’s mind, though she couldn’t place it. It was the fall of 265, and she felt…itchy. It was nearing on winter, and though she had been in Crows’ Landing for two years, the winters still seemed harsher here than Fire Island. She paced the town trying to find words to explain how she felt, but not getting anywhere. Hunting didn’t help, neither did practicing her magic, or making jewelry, everything only served to frustrate her more. By the time she caught up with Jermaine and his wife Freya, it was so obvious something was bothering her; she was worried he might notice.
“Something on your mind, Vive?” She wrinkled her nose at the nickname he had given her, by now she had hoped that he would call her by her real name. Either that or she thought she would have grown used to it
“The Syndar usually prefer to be called by their full names, Jermaine.” She tried her best to contain her irritations.
“Humans prefer to shake hands, but I never bothered you about that did I?”
“You tried to reach for my hand this morning…” Jermaine gave her a smirk as Freya brought dinner out to the table. Gwynevive had been living and working with them since she left Fire Island. She had grown fond of them both; they made her feel more at home on the mainland, despite not fully understanding her culture. The first time they startled her during a full moon sacrifice of incense she was so angry with Freya she nearly brought her to tears. Overall she had a good life here; Jermaine brought her on his routes for company and protection. At home, she would make more metal goods to sell, and she had recently adopted their last name to be more recognizable outside of Crows’ Landing. Truth be told, that was only half the reason, she was very fond of her adopted family.
But something was different now; she had been all over the southern routes and back to the island time and time again. She wanted a change of pace. She eyed the warm meal in front of her.
“Jermaine, I’ve wanted to ask you how you felt about the idea of leaving.”
“We’re off north next week, just waiting on supplies.”
“Alone.”
Freya stopped eating and looked to her husband. Jermaine was silent. Gwynevive kept staring at her food.
“Hah! About time, I was wondering when this life would be too small for you…I’d just…feel better if you didn’t go alone…” Gwynevive couldn’t help but crack a smile.
Before long, Gwynevive met Cordyn Lockwell, a human with a sword, and an interest in arcane magic. She wasn’t sure of his abilities with mana, but after a few months, she was even more dubious of his abilities with his sword.

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