Medieval & Fantasy Minecraft Roleplaying

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox! Be sure to "Get Whitelisted" to join the community on server!

Active Rae Astrid


Legend of Altera

Rae Astrid

A portrait of Rae


General Information

Preferred Name: Rae Astrid
Full Name: Rachel "Elizabeth Emmerson" Aestrith
Title: Miss

Age: 23
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Straight but is down for whatever
Current Residence: N/A
Relationship Status: N/A
Social Status: Gentry


Begotten of lady costume, Rae plaids herself with distinctly male attributes in the body of some forgotten mistress. She is charmingly diverse in her appearance, with long black hair and voidless, black eyes (once spotty, blue-grey eyes), and pale white skin (once fair, white skin). Her tall slender body seemingly guides her terse black hair, and her acute features pierce her plain dark attire. Her thick skin laces itself within a rather torn body, with soles and palms of rough texture and arms of gentle muscle, yet the face of a softened cloak. With a rather thick nose, big ears, and long neck, she is rather skewed compared to the regular adult. Her childlike character distorts the rather feminine charm in her eyes, which delivers scorn and scar when seen for its perspective. Despite her rather apathetic gawk and glare, her look can be described in one word: innocent.

But since becoming spiritblessed, the spotty and charming appearance of Rae seems to be replaced by one of some distant cold chassis; a fridgidity wall of rapacious haunts and deathly songs. Her tearse body seems to be more hunched; her fingers tipped like the talons of a raven; her torn body seemingly more plastered with the distinct overalls of veins, blood curling slightly from the thin veil that would appear to any exposed skin. Though her innocence seemingly lingers like some distant figure, the slight chill of her presence can seemingly throw off those who fail to know her. Her gawk and glare become more like voidless stares. Those who view her advent in any room can be described in one word: uncanny. Yet, there is something lovable, if one would search for it.

Height: 5'7
Weight: 122lbs
Eye Color: Black (once grey)
Skin Color: White
Shape of Face: Oval
Build of Body: A slender body. Thin shoulders with soft muscle. Slowly toning.
Hair Color: A deep rich black
Hair Style: Any-which-way
Complexion: Fair
Posture: Straight but bent in places
Is Seen By Others As: Gloomy, Lonely, Distant
Scars: None seen
Voice: Soft, Quiet

Abilities: Spiritblessed [Shadow]


As a soft-spoken introvert, Rae typically keeps to herself in the space she is given. Not willing to talk unless spoken to, she minds her own business and goes through the day. Rather awkward and contained, she regularly avoids the beaten path to disengage in spontaneous talk. She is reserved to express her inner self to anyone but can be fiercely passionate about tasks she engages in, and can be tactful in her movements and speech.

Since becoming spiritblessed, her anxiety now rushes through her like blood on skin - a slow and itchy feeling, with a soft dread. It lingers on, unlike the cool of water, and harkens her closer to the temptation of tasting it for herself. The coping that Rae forgoes is less than ideal - she shuns anyone she dislikes in a glance, but is not lost when it comes to speech. Perhaps it is here where she will be most contended of her self efficacy, and the oglers who would seemingly follow her steps.

Likes: Spectating, Walking
Dislikes: 'Prince Charming', Flowers, Alcohol

Writing - Rae is afluent at writing, and occasionally writes short stories
Unsuspecting - Can be a very innocent character if she chooses

Shy - Is not good at small talk or with other characters
Confrontation - Avoids confrontation at all costs; shuts down when she is confronted

Fears: Darkness, Spirits/Dreams, Death
Values: Being isolated
Education: Common
Languages: Common
General Attitude: Unmotivated to Obsessive
Religious Inclination: None
General Intelligence: Average
General Sociability: Bar-none (getting better)
Alignment: Neutral ?

Short-Term Goals
  • Find a home [ ]
  • Find a job [X]
  • Learn [redacted] [ ]
  • Become [???] [X]
Long-Term Goals
  • Change herself for the better
  • Reclaim [???] [ ]


: Rae standardizes her attire to a darker palette.
Jewelry: Occasionally wears white earrings.
Owned Homes: None

Carried Inventory: Occasionally money or books. A dagger with an elegant engraving of a spider. A black book.


General Inventory: Books, Writing Utilities, Personal Effects

General Wealth: Middle-class


: Unknown cough
Allergies: Flowers, Pollen
Injuries: None
Sleeping Habits: Sparse and Random
Eating Habits: Eats anything in sparse amounts
Exercise Habits: Takes walks; fighting practices
Memory: Decent
Unhealthy Habits: Does not comb hair or groom often

Born on PC 2273

Family History: Born with the Emmerson's, a respectable family from the Northern Kingdoms

Awake, a little sad, and a bit homesick
~Four years before her twentieth

A plaid face lay solemnly on the grass, where dew was stricken on the soft sod. The sprawling greens of the eastern world seemed to never end on either side. The wet mud felt good on Rae’s face, still young in her teens, yet her stomach churned with agony. The wind left her. Crystalized mist sowed its way through the air as it landed on her back, and as though she were taken by surprise, grasped her palms into the thick soil. A soft thud resided in her throat, and her arms began to quake. Pulsating into her head was the start of a road she could not turn back on. Some time passed in silence, besides the aching in her body. Something began to crawl behind her; perhaps a spirit that she could not return the glance to. A syndrome of magic. It was without patience that she traversed her mind through this pain, but found herself falling through the grass she once comforted in. Suddenly, she looked up and found the face of a man with brutish features. The smell of blood was immediately presented. It wasn’t but a moment when a sword was driven through her skull…

A jolt of life burst into her voice as she heaved out a terrible gasp, convulsing her startled body into an upright position. Her head banged against the ceiling with a loud thud. After but a second, she grasped her forehead in a startled wake, wincing as her teeth drew breath.

She lay not in the soft grass, but a small lumpy bed in the attic of her brother’s home.

A regained consciousness from Rae allowed her to view her surroundings, as she had needed to familiarize herself from the grog that followed her shortly lived nap. She turned her head sideways, now lying flat on her bed, holding onto her forehead. The bed was accompanied by a small maple wood desk and stool, and a candle that laid atop it. The attic itself was no more than the size of a small kitchen. Books, papers, tools, and toys shrewd its way into its small crevice, with a small hatch only two meters away from herself that led into the house. Whatever seemingly small glimpses of light came from beneath the floorboards of the kitchen. The haze was accompanied by the ignorance that was Rae’s thirst, for which she hadn’t kept in mind for since Waterday. Her clouded grey eyes blinked, seemingly crusted with the respite of her day.

Stretching from her maiden position, she eased her way out of the bed, minding the small space she had been oh-so-accustomed to. She stood, stopping for a brief moment to regain her balance from the cumbersome slumber. For some while, she realized, she had not been fed, or rather, had been feeding herself. Reaching for her satchel, she changed into her attire. She removed her small dark teal gown in favor of her regular darkened appearance, peering into her small mirror, pulling back her dusky construed hair. She stopped for a brief moment, taking a long breath, and holding her hair higher where she had hit her head. Nothing. For a brief moment, she felt relief. Releasing her hair, she took a seat on the stool. But it was only brief. Something had snapped just then. Her eyes, she recognized, had begun to shimmer in their own reflection, as if the lenses in her eyes flipped and showed themselves. Twice now. And again. Had she begun this strange reaction to herself?

“Perhaps the pain”, she managed to say aloud, grasping her hands onto the desk. But it wasn’t just that. A manifestation of grief swelled beneath her feet. It was the tears that were chiefly swelling in her eyes, and a lump in her throat that slowly began to croak. Rae felt embarrassed but hadn't known why. Guilty stares felt visible from the walls around her, as though a thousand onlookers watched her in madness. She tried to stop -- truly so. Her brain began to pulse again, and her arms began to quake. Rae couldn’t admit it at the time, but what seemed like an era of loneliness couldn’t begin to lead itself the way she wished; a way of pleasure that she desired -- no, craved. Her sorrowed look made her face beet red, and her eyes turn a soft red. What began as a soft cry turned into a loud sob. Pressing her hands against her eyes, she jumped back into her bed to cover it.

Her brother had just returned home from the brothel. Disturbed by the unpleasant sounds he heard from the attic, he rushed upstairs to see his sister weeping, seemingly for no reason at all. He quickly went over to her, looking at her in her bed, looming. Loud cries dimmed into soft heaps of breath and murmured mumblings. He watched. Minutes passed. Her cries became silent. The pulsing stopped; her nose started to bleed.

She looked up at her brother, and seemingly, the expression he took for her shocked her. Was it lust? A desire for thrill? He was there, discomforting, and stared. The blood on her nose dripped onto her soft lips. The taste had set off in her mind a sense of distress as her brother stood over her. His large brutish features had distortedly loomed like the strange beast she had once called a brother; that same brother who helped her through nights where she felt most alone. As though the burning of his piercing eyes melted through her fleshy skull, cutting whatever innocence they had, and stained her mind more so than a thousand words could. Her eyes glowed as her tears began to dissipate. Her expression tempted — anything. But nothing. He looked at her. And then left — without embrace, or to Rae, love.

It was in that moment she realized the problem but knew that whatever anyone tried to do, it wouldn’t go away.

It wasn’t long till she decided to move back with her mother.

An encounter: Markets and the art of library

The bustling streets of the market in Emerson were busy as ever. Strange shipments came from the west while fishermen began loading their salt stained bounty into their stalls from the east. Artisans and merchants from across the city gathered in the morning light of the sky; a fresh smell of old leather and fruits of all kinds roamed the air like a sweet and smokey buzz. In the steak houses, meats and grub poured into the streets, and the zing of lemons and melons pierced the taste buds of any passers-by. The soft reflection of the bread stands and bakeries flooded the nostrils of the pedestrians, so tempted by its soft glows; the blacksmith with his rusted anvil rung his hammer deep into the rhythm of the street. Yet despite the bustle and hustle of the day, Rae insisted to go to the library. She had gone not two days prior to browse a section for different medicinal ingredients, and had decided she would attend the presence and company of the librarian for her own pleasure this morning. A deliverance of steps awakened her day as she headed towards the familiar route through the market.

The day was placid. The partly cloudy skies seemed to shine brightest in her eyes on her route to the archive of books, and the rain from the night before made the day sticky and humid, filling the cobblestone road with puddles of potholes and faint mist; an uncomfortable feeling rose up Rae’s legs and neck, which felt claustrophobic underneath her turtleneck and dark attired dress. Yet she pretended to ignore it and not make a fuss, as most do, for she knew the library would be cooler than the hot summers day. The taste of salt rushed down the throat of Rae as she passed the markets ports.

Finally she had arrived, passing by the dubious smells, and entering the old library. Hidden underneath a small path and an unrelated shop, the Emerson library was one of the oldest libraries existing in the town. The smell of the entrance filled Rae’s brutish nose with an oaky and woody smell; like the buzz of incense that lingers in the back of your mind. She pushed the doorway slightly more ajar than it was, peering in to see of any residents that may be present. The only member in attendance was the librarian, Tommy, a stout man with a thick accent that ran the place. The library itself was very small, with several bookcases lined up by the entrance and towards the back. Each file was full of books, and was labeled neatly in alphabetical order by genre, as most libraries would be. There was a small section above regular height, which a ladder appeared to be the only way to reach, and Tommy's desk inhabited itself at the entrance - impossible to avoid. With that, she took a small step in an was immediately greeted.

Related image

“Halloo Rae! How’s moi favorite customer?

“Hello Tommy.”, replied Rae, shutting the door behind her. A small bell rang against the old frames as it slammed tight.

“Fine day for a lollop in' it?”, he said with a grin.

She nodded carefully, not wanting to jump too far into the conversation.

“Ah, yes, a fine day indeed!”, he said with alacrity, walking out of his enclosed desk to be closer to Rae with a massive grin and brow. He leaned against the desk with his hands and back, saying, “Why not a few days ago did oi find myself seeing yow 'are. Waa brings yow back so soon?”

“I’m looking for a book - for reading.. preferably pleasure... in some kind of... fiction; for what of I care little. Would you happen to have such books here?”, she said with a quick tone.

“Fiction eh?”, he said with a keen tone, “Well, there's little f’ tha bairn produced these days, not since moi grandpap hev oi had a good book to read like that, and not since all thur stuff that's bairn happening lately; noo toime for fiction do getting out f tha'... tha' would fare oi’d reckon. To much work ‘ese days!”, he laughed. “But!”, he exclaimed, walking towards the ladder that leaned behind an old shelf, “Oi do believe oi hev suffin around 'are tha may be anarl your liking.”

He began to climb the ladder, looking carefully for a book that matched a description provided.

The library smelled of a smokey flare; the rims of different sections puffing their way through the air. Curiously waiting and a tad impatient, Rae walked over toward him and stared, admiring his rough features. He was a small creature, old and nearly bald, with a neck as shriveled up as a prune. He had a large nose, similar to Rae, and wore hinde from some brutishly thick animal. His large hands laced the labels of the shelves, meticulously mouthing out each of their rims, seemingly polishing their texture with the oil of his fingers.

Rae began to tap her foot impatiently.

“'Are we goo!” He said, picking out a large leatherbound book from a mound of dusty shelves. 'Shadows f thur Lost Rose' -- eems interesting enow.” He climbed down the ladder carefully as it creaked with each step. Tommy glanced down at the book and handed it over to Rae, who took it from his hands to examine. She sat down at a nearby table, where Tommy followed, rambling.

“Now, oi woon hev taken yow for a mawther tha read rae, not many do around 'are and it's very rum tha a young, and daast oi say but pardon moi language, boo-ful and attractive woman as yourself be 'are rather than at thur house. Bu’ f course, that's noon ‘f moi busines. Oi started out yungin’ as wal fallin’ in love with ‘ese books, and oi really car' say tha i'd be sane to-day should oi hev missed out on thur opportunity to be 'are.”

A soon while after, Rae expressed her interest in the book, and asked to check it out. Walking out the door, Tommy called out, “Well, yow tairke care now, enjoy thur book i'm giving yow 'are and yow tal me do that's any good eh?”

Rae awkwardly smiled and nodded on her way out, shutting the realm of knowledge behind her, and holding her new book by her side.

Blemished Months
In the winter months blemished by autumn's last touch, it flourished; a seed of dissent from the northern lands once called home, brought down by wraith and pain from what could only be an example by the gods. The Emmerson household, distraught by their hold on the world, and the elements that seemingly sought after them, was all but broken.

It was not by choice, the way that Rae exposed herself to these hardships, but rather, an element that descended her, like her ancestors before her. She had abandoned her past, like the gods did for them, and for the same did she to those who claimed dominion upon this earth. Cold and broken. Lost and unbalanced. These were the ways that the world transformed itself. But it would not matter. For Rae was weak. She had not the strength to lift up arms nor to take back what was rightfully hers, nor to change the path that the gods had laid down for this world; and at the same time, it was wrong to pity her attempts - her struggles compared against a world riddled with hate and antagonism fleeted her world of petty strifes of family. It would not be the job of anyone to lift this veil over herself. But rather the strength of mind that she possessed. Though Rae lacked her arms in strength, there was the will to do so. Trials of a past life faced against a new and reborn continent layed sodden by her side. It was not the fame or the glory so many before her sought, but to end the cycle of meaningless hate.

Rumors spread of a dark evil. A contest for the ways in which the forces of this world confound their actions. A metonym of her own life.

Glass; its silver bearings on a plastered smile as it awakens from a cold slumber. It timbers like a wave of trees giving breath to newborns, or the expressionist visions of the philosophers of old. As each part is held by their fathers, perhaps I can be a bit hysteric too.

Perhaps I can be a bit hysteric, when I see the mountains grow out of grounds, plastered like white lights on trees that have bloomed; Perhaps when the water runs and flows, the recycled nature of its design strays naught towards an ebb of entropy but towards a singular purpose; Perhaps when the soil, effervescently eager to explode from the earth's womb, reaches my ears to tell me it is true what a world of wonder can give; yet all I hear is the machinations of lesser thoughts, emerging from the kind of rubble from a ruined city, burnt with its child in it, her precious children, growing to become the mongers of that ruin, to become the pleasured seeking and titillated children that jump as though their last day runs through their soft, unspoken, unwoven hair. Her spoiled children are hidden in the city with angst, lust, and a thrill. An obsessive, obsessive thrill.

Perhaps I can be a bit hysteric when it's over.

Last edited:


Legend of Altera

Family Members

Jacob Emmerson - My father. We didnt speak much.

Silvia Emmerson - My mother. She was nice to me.

Jacob Emmerson II - Brother.

Romantic Interests
• ???

Friendly With
Thryss - A friend. She teaches me things. Things that I need. She is very kind.
Foxbells - A friend. She teaches me things. Things I'm not sure I want. I get confused when I talk to her, but I listen, and want to learn.

Ronak - A nice dwarf. Talked to me in a rainstorm, and gave me a drink.
Maebh - Seer of Storms, Ghost of this Tip, Whalesbane and Protege of the Witch of the North. She told me a story in a sewer, it was fun.

Etrius - He has nice eyes. Has a thing for Thryss I think.
Eimar - A tall man, who I see at the tavern. I don't know his name, but he talks to me occassionally.
Maple - She has nice hair. We talked briefly. I'm not sure what I think.
Jocasta - We met once at a tavern briefly.
Rolland - He gave me some banana bread once in the rain. I don't know his name.
Four - I got sick and he made me feel better. We talked about magic briefly. His name is a number.
Peter - He has nice ears. They are very soft and fuzy. I would like to touch them again...

Wary Of
• ???

Dunrad - He wanted to know about my eyes. He called me mad and strange. I don't know his name.
Jonah - He called me a dirty, aimless child. I don't know his name.

• ???

Milah - ???
Tylla - ???
• Esplin - ???
• Ayda - ???

Crossed out means forgotten
Last edited:


Legend of Altera
Kind of sad I haven't been playing on Rae all that often, being my first char. So I'm going to try and play her more, write more stories, and touch up her profile.
Stay tuned~


Legend of Altera
I'd love to rp with her sometime, I think it'll be interesting :oops: also *sit*