Helene Moonstrider

To the moon and back ... Helene, the petite canine who worshiped the moon like it was a goddess, a new comer to the island of Guildereim, and a creature who simply exuded an aura of eccentric and exotic. Thick pelage was as dark as any moonless night, with locks of silvery white that spilled down her slender form in waves, when they weren't pinned away in a loose bun at that rested at the nape of her neck. Pale eyes of golden yellow glimmered like the stars in the sky above. Yet they were clouded with a certain sadness hidden somewhere deep within. Large canid audits glistened with studs of silver. That long snout of hers that fit seamlessly into petite features always had a gentle smile. Her costume kept her understated. A simple dress with the back out, leaving a moon phase tattoo exposed down her spine. Her accessories of course were minimalistic, with simple silver chains hanging about her neck and cuffs that hid slender wrists beneath their bulky grasp. If one looked carefully, a book could always be seen tucked away in her hands, the title rubbed away sometime ago. Remember?

Helene was born and raised in a small, but wealthy town on the coast of Sweden. Her parents had came into money early on in their romancing days, and it set their children up for life. As a girl, Helene never had to work. She merely would go to school, play, and interact with the townsfolk who crammed themselves near the rolling, rocky hills and living waters. Summers there were long and and the winters were cold and dark.

Perhaps, that's what intrigued her interest in the moon from such a young age. Helene's location in the country left her in the dark through most of the winter months. You could ask anyone in the village about where Helene was at night and during those months, and most of the time it was mapping stars and praising the moon. Why, she was so obsessed that by the time she hit her early adulted years, she tattooed the phases down her spine.

That was also around the time she met a young sailor. He was a handsome fellow with a pelt as dark as hers. His interests dabbled in the moon, but they were no where near as intense as Helene's. The connection between the two was nearly instantaneous. They spent many a night talking by the shores, and every year on their anniversary he took her upon his ship and they sailed to an island where the view was beyond impeccable.

However, like all good things, it must come to an end. Her new found mate was beginning to travel again, as he didn't share the same luxury and status as Helene. The woman never minded, because he was always such a good companion. He wrote letters to her, and they always arrived every so timely. They described of promising new lands, and lands full of fabulous treasure. Oh, how Helene wanted to join him! That was until the letters stopped.

In the beginning, Helene merely chalked it up to maybe her love being preoccupied with the wonders of the world treasure, new land, and exotic delights, but as the moons waxed and waned and still no letters surfaced, she began to fear the worst, only to find the rumors riding in on the wind. There had been a ship spotted, his ship, the Wivern, just off the coast of Lithuania. It has been beached for sometime and all the crew upon it deceased. However, the captain, though not on the ship was presumed deceased as well.

A trickle, a spark of hope remained in Helene's heart. She would wait for him at a cliff's edge, gazing upon the open seas whispering of her love to him. Many nights, she would stare at the moon and often wonder if somewhere, he too was gazing upon the same moon.

A year had passed, and when there was no more rumors to cross her path, there was no hope left in her heart, and the world seemed so empty. There was nothing left for her in Sweden, but memories. Memories she had not the heart to deal with. Memories that would tear her apart should she stay just one more day. Helene would pack up her things, what little she could bare to take, and set sail for new lands.

She cared not where she landed, as long as their could be new beginnings ...

A month had passed on the ship she sailed, and land had been spotted, and Isle - The Isle of Delights, Debauchery, and slavery, Guildereim.