About Mimi Von Sollier
From inside the dungeons Garvin thought back upon his life; a mournful occasion he hardly bemoaned it's passing. Although never one to whine about his lot, he was used to it. The dirge of Ravenloft had never torn his spirits asunder; however it provided him a fatalistic attitude.
His chest burnt from the Nobles' brand, eye swollen shut, welts and bruises across his body. From humble beginnings he had risen and fallen like a comet.
Since his birth he had been a slave of some sort. Never talking about a mysterious mother, Garvin's father had brought him up in a small woodsman hut. As he reached puberty he was called to serve at the Laird Rowencrofts Manor house, the Laird was a prideful man. Despite the land he owned being a minor Lot, he decided to have a skald to tell of his greatness and entertain at parties.
A confirmed bachelor Rowencroft, held many an elaborate party. To Garvin he was a good boss, teaching him about how to perform. A more generous Noble than most, sensible with the whip but only rarely using the snout.
Of course, Rowencrofts' audacious parties would attract the attention of the more reprehensible nobles. A group of nobles descended one night upon the house and had a horrific party. Garvin was forced to entertain throughout; watching the depredations inflicted upon his Laird the Bard nearly lost his mind - only awaking to find himself in a cell.
Breaking out of his cell, using his familiar
Willow smiles the first blessed relief in months since coming to this damned place, she riffles through her Harrowing deck - a last trace of her home. The soft sound reminds her of home....
'Inside the dark caravan decorated
Leathery flap of wings breaks the revelry. Mother Kindry had sent her here, to find... well the old lady was enigmatic.
"You'll find old friends and new ones, leaving some behind and you may find yourself." her voice rasped.
The heir to the Roberts estate, Jerry was his fathers second child but first son. After a failed marriage to an elven lady that produced a lovely girl, Lord Roberts fell for a genteel human lady. Their son, Jerry, was spoilt; being brought up in luxurious manor. From a young age he was enrolled in the best schools, from boarding school, to prep-school, to the Grammar school. He only spend summers at home, seeing his parents for a brief season, getting upto the usual foolish gapes. A product of his breeding and environment, through grit and arrogance he was soon accepted to Oxbridge/Uxbridge University. Enjoying his days studying and his evenings carousing with the girls from St. Helens college, the years passed in a debauched roil. A member of the gourmand club, fencers society, Golden Sun and Uxbridge Blues - the seasons passed too quickly.
After University, because that was the done thing, Jerry was to go on Safari/"The Grand Tour"*. His father, knew that it may help smooth the rough edges from his heirs' personality - or if not that it'd keep him out of his hair for a while.
Thus he travelled to the clans, to the pagan people of the old ways. His thoughts were filled of hunting and a certain amount of debauching. However he quickly learnt hubris, after seeing their ways. Taking beaters, bearers and guides with him, he joined the clan of the Bloodhawks. Quickly the Lordlings arrogant attitude scared his guides and connections to civilisation. Jerry tried to ignore this and continue with his hunting (both game and girls?)- however he was soon isolated. Lonely nights in the huts forced his first evenings of self-contemplation since his youth. This was a shocking self-revelation, he saw a spoilt and arrogant young man who over-indulged simply because he could and to make up for the emptiness of his existence. The next morning he started to learn the ways of the natives.
However, his initial attitude had earned the enmity of the neighbouring clan. This was only enhanced by the gradual acceptance of Jerry into the clan. They plotted to send him home to his people, upon one walkabout to the ancient stones they kidnapped him and paid a ferryman to take him to the mainland.
Unfortunately, for all parties, they were not a good judge of character. As the Ferryman hired to take Jerry back knew of a workhouse that was always in need of more bodies. The grimy conditions and hard work created a dour situation, lifespans reduced. Though people were free to come and go the dire poverty and isolation of the factory ensured their continued compliance. Despite railing against the work, he found it would be tough to leave. It took him a month to work out the best way to do it, once he'd done that he fell in love with a young woman, Hope. Lank dun-coloured hair was transformed to a radiant auburn in his eyes. The frailness of body, a delicate fragility. However this put paid to his immediate plans, for he couldn't get her out as well.
Took six months to find a way, however her health deteriorated.... (should she be dead, or just ill at home ....hmmm if this one dies the Hope Myrtle).
And this formed into his resolve to create an industrial town like Port Sunshine.
Born and raised believing that some people have more 'pluck, courage and vim' than others led to an arrogant attitude. However as he has learnt humility he hasn't been entirely dissuaded of this notion, instead he realises that those in a position of power have a responsibility to the common man.