Minstrel of Moghome

History

  BIOGRAPHY   
Born to a noble house in the city of Ishgard slightly before the calamity (under the assumption of a slightly longer time-bubble as of Dawntrail), Elorraine's family was- at the time of her birth a rather unremarkable house- barely eeking out a standing amongst the city's nobility. In the wake of the Calamity, their fates changed when Elorraine's older brother won fame and fortune for the house- acheiving a position of importance amongst the ranks of the Archbishop's personal guard.Elorraine was expected to follow in her brother's footsteps- as a knight of the house who would take to the field of battle against the Dravanian hordes. However the young elezen had no interest in warfare, nor any talent for it. Instead, they preferred to spend their time attending balls, galivanting about the Jeweled Croizer, and studying music and the arts. This, along with the young elezen's nature struggling against the gender norms of Ishgard caused no small amount of strife amongst their family. As a young teenager, they had aspirations to seek tutelage in the healing arts- hoping to learn magic as such craft interested them far more than holding a lance. They were instead shipped off to Camp Dragonhead kicking and screaming- in order to be 'properly trained'. Elorraine did not last even a week at the camp before she absconded with the help of a sympathetic dragoon and the assistance of her brother, who would continue to provide Elorraine with a stipend of gil until his death in the Dragonsong.Travelling to Gridania- she would use her skills as a bard and painter to make additional gil, and ended up falling in with a circle of adventuring artists and creatives, and setting off on trips across Eorzea. During this time, she would also make friends with the moogles of Thornmarch, who took to Elorraine's free spirit and pure heart. The moogles would tutor the young elezen in magic- teaching her how to apply her aether to her muses of art and music. And she would repay their kindness in full- assisting in the quelling of King Moggle Mog XIV's summoning, and travelling as an intermediary with the Seedseers in the diplomatic mission from Thornmarch to Moghome to better forge ties between the moogle tribes.With her brother's death in the Dragonsong, Elorraine's stipend of gil, which she has so carelessly spent on frivolities has run dry- forcing Elorraine to expand her search for employment by working at various venues. Eventually, she accumulated enough gil that with the help of some close comrades and the moogles she would open up a venue of her own.

Adventuring Companions

Following her naive wanderlust and seeking inspiration for a bout of artist's block- Elorraine's first major adventure had her set out upon the newly opening trade routes to the New World. What initially promised to be a guided safari-like expedition quickly went awry as the group was dragged into escapades across Tural. Though the experience was harrowing, Elorraine met several lifelong friends through the adventure who she would not trade for the world.

Close Friends

Throughout her few years away from Ishgard, Elorraine has made no shortage of friends. But some few- she has a deeper connection with.

Elorraine's birth family- is that of House Valhourdin. A once prominent minor noble house which was rendered infamous by the actions of its eldest scion during the Dragonsong War. It is likely you have never heard that House Valhourdin had a younger child for several reasons. For one, the house's patriarch saw Elorraine as a disgrace- and did not seek to publicize a runaway child who chafed against Ishgardian gender norms. And- with the house's name stained in infamy, Elorraine has chosen to avoid the usage of her birth name not only for the avoidance of the foul memories asociated with it- but also for her own safety.

An ambitious cult of void-mages and their associates- the Shadowed Court and their voidkin master Lisellia, Archfiend of Vile Secrets saught to bring Ishgard under their heel through dark magic and shrewd politicking. Through no fault of her own, Elorraine was caught up in the midst of the conspiracy- as the Court saught to use the now heirless Valhourdin family to achieve their goals. Though the Shadowed Court is now disbanded, its members gaoled, executed, or exiled, and its mistress permanently slain- the group nonetheless marks a sortid chapter in Elorraine's life.

Gallery

A Dead Name

Elorraine returns to Ishgard after several years abroad, only to find rumors that a doppelganger has taken up the identity she left behind.

Returning home came with no shortage of complicated emotions. Crossing the Steps of Faith towards the Arc of the Worthy, I could not help but think how much had changed since I last stood here. Dragonsong come to an end, the Archbishop deposed, and a new future was being built with our former enemies.
But perhaps most presciently, I had changed. When I had absconded from Camp Dragonhead four cycles ago, I was a child who hardly knew their place in the world aside from what had been ascribed to them by their family and society. All I knew is that those labels and expectations I was forced into were wrong, and that I needed to escape them by any means. Now I walked across the snow laden stone with a purpose found- an accomplished minstrel and painter, a woman who at least tried to portray herself as the worldly woman I wished to be.
It was nostalgic, to once again stand under the towering spires of my city. Even if my time amongst the city-states of the Eorzean alliance was a pleasant one, time that allowed me to grow into the person I am now. There is always a comfort in being in the place you know in your heart to be home.Like most travelers, the first thing I did was make my way to the warm hearth of the Forgotten Knight. Though I find most of their drinks to be a bitter swill, there is no better place to relax after a day’s journey through the Coerthan cold. And there was a purpose to this visit of course- a new venture I had planned for some time was set to begin. A patisserie to be built in the Empyerium, where the moogles of Moghome and Thornmarch could bring a little extra joy to the people of Ishgard. But- to say I was at a loss on how to begin would be an understatement. Thankfully, during my time abroad I had made friends with one Cyrene Burwani- a sharlyan noble with an equally complex relation to their family as my own. Important to this story though, miss Cyrene knows the ins and outs of construction in Ishgards burgeoning districts like the back of their hand, and had offered to help with my little venture.Nestling into a corner table near the stage, a steaming cup of Ishgardian Tea and slice of freshly baked Knight’s Bread, I found myself doing as any good minstrel does- idly listening to the rumors of the town. Rumors are a strange thing- but as a minstrel, one learns their value. Even if they are not always true, there is value in the stories people tell amongst themselves. It shows their worries, their interests, the things that linger on their mind.
It was not strange to find my family’s name uttered in these halls. After all, from the rare letters I had received from my mother in the wake of my brother’s death- House Valhourdin had become a pariah amongst the High Houses.
“████████”. I could not help but wince upon hearing that name uttered amongst the crowd of drunken patrons. The name I had hoped with all my heart would die along with the child that I left behind at Camp Dragonhead four cycles ago. Why were they talking about me? I had expected idle rumors about my brother- but, as far as I was aware, the official story of my family was that “████████” was bedridden with illness much like my mother was. But now, apparently- he was out making a name for himself in the courts of Ishgard and attempting to salvage the family’s reputation.
That made no sense… considering he no longer existed. And I was sitting here now. Could it be a doppelganger of some sort? Would my father truly stoop so low and reject me so thoroughly as to attempt to replace me with another son instead of accepting his daughter? These thoughts would have to wait however, as a friendly figure weaved their way through the crowd towards me.Miss Cyrene was wonderful, as always. In a way she was exactly the woman I strove to be. Confident, worldly, talented, and influential in her own right. A proper lady of the courts- even if she did have her own quirks what with her being more interested in construction and aetherology rather than noble politicking.
Our conversation was positively enlightening. Miss Cyrene really did know what to do for every step of the process. She even brought with her the necessary forms I would need to fill out. But, as I was helped through the process of signing forms and bylaws, my attention kept drifting to the conversations at nearby tables. On the doppelganger.
Cyrene, observant as always- noticed of course. And when she saw my wincing reaction to my deadname being uttered so casually by the patrons of the Forgotten Knight, she set aside her talk of zoning restrictions to ask if I was alright. I told her I was of course, that was a lie like many of my words were. I think she knew that though, as she quickly rolled up the forms and offered to show me the city instead- to look into the available plots of land for the patisserie’s construction.
The walk amongst the snowy streets of Ishgard did much to clear my head. Though the fresh petrichor of the Twelveswood and the salt swept sea winds of Vylbrand were beautiful in their own way- there is something special about the alpine air of the Coerthan highlands. And- from the walls of the newly constructed Empyerium district, one could see nearly out to the horizon. Walking the streets with miss Cyrene- it reminded me how much I had missed home, despite my complicated history with the city and its expectations.Unfortunately, rumors are often built on fact. And my giddy homecoming was brought to an abrupt halt as we made our way out of the Empyerium and back to the Pillars. As the statues of the Knights Twelve loomed overhead, the chez maisons of the High Houses flanking us on all sides- “ser ████████~!”- I winced. Hearing the name ring out in the distance. Turning to look with apprehension- I saw him. A ghost of a person who should not exist.
Surrounded by a crowd of puffball noble women who plied for his attention, the elezen man stood a head taller above them. His long blonde hair and silver rimmed spectacles framed a gallantly beautiful masculine face, with a kind and confident smile. Wearing a fur collared coat of light blues and pearlescent whites, he struck the pose of someone who belonged here amongst the courts of Ishgard. He was, in many ways- the exact type of person I would fawn over myself, were it not for the sickening knot in my stomach at knowing he was supposed to be me. At least the version of me my family wished for me to be.
I could not help but freeze in place upon the sight of him. My body going rigid at the sight of a ghost of a life I’d hope to leave behind. Miss Cyrene immediately noticed my apprehension, but before she could even surmise the situation in its entirety he was upon us. Having left his crowd of gawking noblewomen behind him, he sauntered confidently up to the two of us- with a sickeningly charming voice and a drawl of faux concern.
“Are you alright there- lady Elorraine?”. I recoiled as the words left his lips, he knew my name. What did it mean. My breaths grew shaky, I had to recompose myself. Shoving all of my fears deep into my stomach where they would no doubt bubble up twicefold in the evening- I replied with the gentle fondness someone would expect of a noble lady in Ishgard’s courts. “Y-yes, quite alright dear. I apologize, have we met before?”
Miss Cyrene loomed over me like a protective parent, attempting to surmise the nature of the relationship and if she needed to intervene. But how could I ever begin to explain, that the man standing before me was a twisted mirror of a future I never wished to behold.
He replied with a curt bow, pushing up his glasses as he straightened up again. “Ah, mine apologies. I did not mean to be overly familiar. I am Elaurent de Valhourdin. I have heard your name in passing- you’ve quite a reputation as a rising star lady Elorraine.”
The name rung on the air, I could not block it out any longer. Who- or what is this? And why have they donned the mask of my deadname? I could not ignore it as an idle rumor. They were real- a ghost who stood in front of me.
“I must apologize though- dear Elorraine…” he continued, the honeyed words hiding venom in their sweetness. This man detested my presence, only hiding it with a gentlemanly mask. “-but I must insist that you continue to spend your time abroad. There are things astir here in Ishgard. And your presence here is most unwanted. Perhaps it would be better, if you took your leave once more.”
No sooner did the words leave his mouth than I found, miss Cyrene interposing themselves between me and ‘Elaurent’. With all the fierceness of a woman scorned, she berated him with the veiled threats that only someone of her likeness could muster. I could not help but hide behind her, shirking into her form like a shadow. I could not even bare to look at the man, how he sneered at my every being. But miss Cyrene ensured his venomous words did not reach me, ensured that she knew I would have her protection no matter what this Elaurent would attempt.
“Fine…” Elaurent said, scoffing at Cyrenes attestations “Do what you will, I merely meant to forewarn you. But know, that the shadows will be watching. Enjoy your evening dear.” He sneered, with a slight wave. Turning on heel to return to his crowd of puffball noblewomen.
As soon as he turned, miss Cyrene ushered me up the steps towards the Firmament once more. Where we could be in a place she knew would be safe. It seems- I was going to have to explain things after all… why must homecomings be so complicated.