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Planetoid
- Joined
- Sep 29, 2016
Dorne.
It had been once been a place her people had attempted to call home. They had tried integrating into their society, taking up their customs after arriving to Westeros from Essos. Few accepted them with open arms, even fewer married these newly arrived immigrants. The offsprings of these uncommon unions began to carry a different name, a way of identifying their heritage. They were called Sacareans, their appearances resembled much like those of the Dornish, dark hair, olive skin, usually dark eyes save for the few birthed with lighter hues. At first, the Dornish had been indifferent in their arrival, but when they began to mix with their own was when they faced great amounts of hostility.
These 'mixed breeds' were treated unjustly for their belief that didn't conform to their Faith of the Seven, believing on solely in Mother Rhoyne, a monotheistic religion that worshipped nature and the power it produces. The immigrants of Essos and their children were gifted by their goddess with the ability to draw their power and energies from nature, an unusual talent that many in Dornish society refused to acknowledge and found them to be an act against the gods, a mark of evil. So, they were persecuted, driven out from the lands they had once called home for several decades, and forced to live a nomadic life after the traumatizing experience.
Few Sacareans settled, in rural lands or small communities within the forest in hopes of living in peace. Olira Vaele had been among those that lived in the small communities on the remote countryside, making a living alongside her mother and younger sister. Their father had been killed in the conflict of Dorne, an experience she tried not to remember because of its brutality, so they moved along with a few other families to live and worship in peace. It was on her brother's most recent excursion north that they had received a letter from a good friend of his, Colren had been imprisoned for a reason unknown. Her other had been brought to tears upon reading the letter, and Olira, as the second oldest, felt responsible to straighten out the issue. So, she left her quiet, sleepy settlement to travel miles northward, to the town of Pyvra, where their annual festival was to begin.
Olira hadn't been able to help herself. It was a warm, comfortable evening and every resident and visitor of the town was out enjoying the festivities. The food, the music, the dancing. She had arrived at the town earlier during the day, checked in at the local inn before she ventured off into the town, trying to not draw attention to herself. Yet, she noticed a gathering of individuals around a circle, everyone clapping with the beat of the drum and a woodwind instrument. The dark haired woman managed to make her way to the very front, smiling a bit at the sight that greeted her, it was a dancer, adorned in silk and sheer while remaining modest, plates of jewelry decorated her arm. She was Sacarean, that she could tell for sure. The young woman of twenty-two clapped, noticing how enthralled the crowd was, especially the men with the woman's almost hypnotic dancing.
Dancing was apart of their culture, apart of the worship of their goddess, many girls learned the basics of dancing, with the option to be under the tutelage of a renowned dancer. The dancer slowed to a stop, giving a slight bow before her eyes met Olira, who already had begun to step forward. She wasn't in the garb of traditional dancers, but she wore a long sleeved, swoop neck top edges trimmed in gold colored thread, the edge of the top a midriff, a flowing skirt matching in color and flat shoes. The dancer seemed to smile with glee, bowing to her and letting Olira take the stage.
She returned the bow, kicking off her shoes only to leap up to the beat of ht music. Olira whirled once, before she allowed the sound of the music to possess her. She twisted and moved, body fluid like water as no part of her remained still. Her single braided hair whipped back and forth, her hips practically appeared boneless with how she moved them with hypnotic ease.
Dancing was her favorite hobby.
It had been once been a place her people had attempted to call home. They had tried integrating into their society, taking up their customs after arriving to Westeros from Essos. Few accepted them with open arms, even fewer married these newly arrived immigrants. The offsprings of these uncommon unions began to carry a different name, a way of identifying their heritage. They were called Sacareans, their appearances resembled much like those of the Dornish, dark hair, olive skin, usually dark eyes save for the few birthed with lighter hues. At first, the Dornish had been indifferent in their arrival, but when they began to mix with their own was when they faced great amounts of hostility.
These 'mixed breeds' were treated unjustly for their belief that didn't conform to their Faith of the Seven, believing on solely in Mother Rhoyne, a monotheistic religion that worshipped nature and the power it produces. The immigrants of Essos and their children were gifted by their goddess with the ability to draw their power and energies from nature, an unusual talent that many in Dornish society refused to acknowledge and found them to be an act against the gods, a mark of evil. So, they were persecuted, driven out from the lands they had once called home for several decades, and forced to live a nomadic life after the traumatizing experience.
Few Sacareans settled, in rural lands or small communities within the forest in hopes of living in peace. Olira Vaele had been among those that lived in the small communities on the remote countryside, making a living alongside her mother and younger sister. Their father had been killed in the conflict of Dorne, an experience she tried not to remember because of its brutality, so they moved along with a few other families to live and worship in peace. It was on her brother's most recent excursion north that they had received a letter from a good friend of his, Colren had been imprisoned for a reason unknown. Her other had been brought to tears upon reading the letter, and Olira, as the second oldest, felt responsible to straighten out the issue. So, she left her quiet, sleepy settlement to travel miles northward, to the town of Pyvra, where their annual festival was to begin.
Olira hadn't been able to help herself. It was a warm, comfortable evening and every resident and visitor of the town was out enjoying the festivities. The food, the music, the dancing. She had arrived at the town earlier during the day, checked in at the local inn before she ventured off into the town, trying to not draw attention to herself. Yet, she noticed a gathering of individuals around a circle, everyone clapping with the beat of the drum and a woodwind instrument. The dark haired woman managed to make her way to the very front, smiling a bit at the sight that greeted her, it was a dancer, adorned in silk and sheer while remaining modest, plates of jewelry decorated her arm. She was Sacarean, that she could tell for sure. The young woman of twenty-two clapped, noticing how enthralled the crowd was, especially the men with the woman's almost hypnotic dancing.
Dancing was apart of their culture, apart of the worship of their goddess, many girls learned the basics of dancing, with the option to be under the tutelage of a renowned dancer. The dancer slowed to a stop, giving a slight bow before her eyes met Olira, who already had begun to step forward. She wasn't in the garb of traditional dancers, but she wore a long sleeved, swoop neck top edges trimmed in gold colored thread, the edge of the top a midriff, a flowing skirt matching in color and flat shoes. The dancer seemed to smile with glee, bowing to her and letting Olira take the stage.
She returned the bow, kicking off her shoes only to leap up to the beat of ht music. Olira whirled once, before she allowed the sound of the music to possess her. She twisted and moved, body fluid like water as no part of her remained still. Her single braided hair whipped back and forth, her hips practically appeared boneless with how she moved them with hypnotic ease.
Dancing was her favorite hobby.