Madame Chordelia

## Traits

### Appearance

There isn't much known about the Madame of the North, for she hides herself away beneath fine silk robes and ceramic bird masks. Few have entered her hallowed halls and even fewer have left, but those who have returned to civilization from the ever-expansive vineyards and orchards boast of her silent but warm hospitality. A warm hospitality that may quickly sweeten and rot like overripe grapes on the vine; the Madame striking down those who have tried to take her kindness for granted. Wisdom follows her like a second shadow and echoes in the click of her heels, it flashes under her silver-embroidered and silken cloaks as she walks and flows into every pen stroke as she writes her thick domes. It seeps from her hoards grown from greed and the blood of her family. The Madame can quickly turn cruel and merciless at the slightest sign of provocation. The North boasts an expansive vineyard and orchard, filled with quality crops and produce; the Madame personally cultivates the craft to derive the best wines and sweets, which she also trades and sells personally. Rumor has it she has also dipped her talons into falconry.

### Personality

The Madame rarely takes sides and lets things course out how nature decides - or how people decide - with a sharp remark on her tongue and a schadingly cold persona to boot. Though don’t be deterred, Chordelia warms up considerably once you get to know her, sometimes even to the point of killing someone for you.

## Background

The Wyvernfeathers were a long, long, line of nobility. They spearheaded towns, funded armies, and protected their own. Their trading routes were magnificent and their produce exotic, towns furnished and decorated to perfection, the clothes on their backs expensive and unique. The North prospered under their benevolent and generous hand, the House of the Wyvernfeather hoarding over the lands like a dragon with its hoard; or a bird with their nest. The family turned greedy, became secretive between each other, some even harsh and cruel. Their blood curdled into something vile as power intoxicated them and sharpened the talons of the birds of Minerva at their hearts. Chordelia was no different, being taught at a young age that the seat of the Madame and Monsieur was the only position worth living for in the House. The tight grip of their family started to strangle the surrounding towns, many tearing down the Wyvernfeather crests flowing in the winds around their walls. Origins of many types fought against the hold of the Raptor Family, as some came to call them, believing them to be demons in disguise. Chordelia’s uncle, the then current Monsieur, struck down defying towns in a blaze of cold fire and blood. Myth has it that not even a speck of blood stained his onyx wings. The few remaining towns that were loyal to the family bowed their heads and kept on in silence - what were they to do against a Bird of Minerva who tore apart tens of villages and towns within the span of one moonlit night?

The coldness of her family seeped into Chordelia’s blood and bones, turning her silent and calculating - waiting, always waiting. Cruelty sang in her blood as the straw broke the llama’s back one faithful evening. Talons flashed and daggers gleamed as family struck family, blackened blood seeping into the hallowed halls of the Manoir de Wyvernfeather, brickwork forever stained and tainted. The Madame’s brother, Christian,stood over the cooling body of their father. The father who wanted the seat of the Monsieur but destined to never achieve it as the fate of the second-born. The father who would never even touch the seat of the head of the House Wyvernfeather, for his son had struck him down at the eve of reckoning. Chordelia silently watched with her fingers itching as her talons dripped the black blood of her Uncle. She had tilted her head as she stared down at her brother as he heaved for breath and laughed to the Skies, arms soaked in black and hanging limp by his sides. Her fingers itched and her heart thrummed in greed, so she walked up to her brother, the boy she had grown alongside.

The boy fell to his knees with feathers turning dull as ash, blood steadily painting the ground as Chordelia tore out her talons from his chest. She closed her eyes and grinned, her veins singing and victory sweet in her mouth as the silence of the Manoir de Wyvernfeather reached her ears. The ancient family, little more than carcasses and dull feathers.

The Madame opened her eyes, staring across the courtyard of her home and into the setting sun. Her grin wavered as the song of cicadas mournfully echoed around her, tears pricking at her eyes. She looked down at her father and brother, both gone. Gone just like the rest of her family, gone. Gone like her lineage. She stared down at her black stained talons glimmering under the rising moon, the Skies cloudless and judging. Her heart stuttered as she took a deep breath.

It was fine. This was fine.

It had to be.

## Goals/Ambitions

The Madame wishes to live in peace and work through her guilt as well as to work to bring her family name back to the position it used to be - to get rid of the Raptor Family title and bring back the respect the name Wyvernfeather used to garner.

## Lore Updates

* LU 155 - Chordelia 1
* LU 159 - Chordelia 2