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Description
''Who are we to wonder where we're going. Who am I to tell me who I am.''

Name: Menial (Mee-nee-uh l)
    Meaning: lowly, sometimes degrading
Age: 19
Zodiac: The Zesla, sign of Resilience
Gender: Mare
Breed: Horse
Build: Majority of her body is of slender light-build with long legs and neck. Hind legs, rump and back are of heavy draft build, well muscled and equipped with big, sharp hooves. Thunderthighs. She could crush more than a melon with those.
Color: Black sabino splash with bald face
Height: 15.2 hh

Relationships: N/A
Relatives: Unknown heavy draft father (pit-fighter), Unknown light built mother (servile)

Herd Affiliation: Vagabond
    Previous: Aodh
Rank: Soldier
    Previous: Pit-fighter
Talent: N/A
Blessing: N/A
Familiar: N/A

Patreon God: No.
Religious: Hell no.

Items: Thick vines as a tail wrap, free vagabond item
Marks: Aodhian slave brand on left shoulder, littered with scars but all covered by a thick coat, left eye’s iris is damaged and bloodied.

Personality:
Quiet but tempered and expressive
Menial has always known that a slave’s opinion is none worth sharing and that a tongue that talks too much gets cut off. She talks if spoken to but is very careful only to say the essentials and not to voice any opinions. Even though she might seem quiet there’s a lot of things going on in her mind, what she doesn’t say she thinks, and what she thinks grows into strong opinions. The fear of voicing them greatly frustrates her and makes her easily provoked and seemingly aggressive, especially to those with opposing views. One should be careful for when she feels threatened or cornered she goes back to her fighting days, ferociously attacking anything or anyone near without proper thought.
However, it’s usually not too difficult to figure out how she’s feeling if you’re perceptive enough. She’s a restless soul that can’t stand still for long, making her body-language very expressive. Be it with annoyed stares, facial expressions, scraping hooves or a disapproving brow she unintentionally sends more signals than she could ever imagine.

Obedient and Indecisive
As a slave the ability to follow commands without question is of utmost importance. When Menial was first put on the market it was made sure that she’d follow her master’s every whim, if not out of free will then out of fear. She still has a slave’s mindset making it difficult for her to act on her own accord and her new position amongst the vindicators… difficult. She has a hard time knowing how to act, She still feels the obligation to satisfy others and will do anything asked of her, even though she might not agree with it or understand it. She heavily relies on others to tell her what to do.

Lost, on the hunt for purpose
Menial has a hard time coming to terms with her freedom. All she’s ever known is serving her master and fighting in the crucible, the sudden change of environment has made her feel lost and confused. Sure, her past life wasn’t a good one but it was simple and easy to understand, she had a purpose. With all that gone Menial doesn’t know what to do with herself but she craves that lost sense of meaning, for without it she is nothing.

Cautious
She’s become one of the Vindicator’s soldiers and is horrified by the fact that she’s now the enemy of Aodh. She doesn’t feel the Vindicators stand a fighting chance. Many times has she considered heading back to Master in case she’d forgive but she knows forgiveness isn’t a common trait amongst owners. If it was possible to get her out of Aodh it should be just as possible to get her back in, maybe they are already looking for her? She is very on edge around strangers, especially those of Aodhian origin, because who knows who they might really be.

Curious
Like many slaves Menial had very little education. Although she generally just accept the way things are that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to know why. What are all those intricate marks on the parchment? What more is there than Aodh? What are the so called ¨cultists¨? Of course she’d never ask for answers but she intriguingly listens to everything anyone might say and remembers it, hoping it will one day help her understand this chaotic world.

Compassionate
Although she hasn’t changed her ways after moving in with the Vindicators something about their friendly faces seems to have affected her. She no longer acts simply by what she’s told out of obedience but because sometimes she seems to want to. She’s started going out of her way to see if others are doing okay. It’s the little things she does, giving silent company to those who seem to need it or a shoulder to lean on. It’s a subtle change, not enough for even herself to notice the difference, but the newfound sense of compassion is clear. Proving that there might be something more living to discover under that dense coating.

History:
Childhood (0-12)
Slavery life is all Menial had ever known. How she was ripped away from her slave parents, made into property and branded, prancing for the amusement of her superiors. That’s all she would ever be to them, a toy meant to amuse. As soon as she could properly walk she was put through vigorous training to succeed in that simple, menial task. Such a meager thing needed an equally meager name. A name that would remind her of who she was, repelling any possible sense of self-worth that might reside within. Being the offspring of a priced pit-fighter she showed the potential for fighting physique and would follow his legacy, her fate had been decided.

Teen-years (13-18)
Menial no longer remembered her parents. Every day was the same and with such a repetitive schedule there was no need to dwell on the past. There was always techniques to be practiced, punishments to be had or smaller tasks to be done, but she had started to grow into this way of life. As back-breaking of a task it was to constantly push her body to the maximum it gave her a sense of purpose. When successfully downing an opponent, be it practice dummy or bait horse, it was the only time she received some sort of recognition and the feeling of being a little more than an object, to feel more alive.
Upon her eighteenth birthday it was time for her to enter the crucible for the first time. The watchful eyes looking down from the crowd with such anticipation, the loud cheers, the blinding light from the sun, the horse of at least twice her size standing on the opposite side. She wasn’t expected to win, after all it was her first real fight. The question was how long she’d last.
In the end she wasn’t beaten as much as she was turned into a bloodied stain on the floor. She had no memory of the previous day, only the excruciating pain simply by breathing. Apparently she had been a hard nut to crack.
Young Adult (19)
Over the coming year Menial did quite well in the Crucible. In the pit she turned into an animal. She wouldn’t think, turning to instincts and desperation, kicking and biting anything she could to end the match as soon as possible. Her fights were always short lived, either the opponent quickly became overwhelmed by the ferocity and brutality or Menial’s brawns over brains tactic would be outsmarted by more clever opponents. She absolutely despised the Crucible, but she knew it was what she was meant to do.
But then the news came. Someone had died, the boy king had been assassinated. The mourning days insured and fear and uncertainty followed. Even after the three mourning days it didn’t all go back to normal. With the numerous disappearances of well-known figures most people stayed indoors, but that didn’t stop slaves from doing their duties. Menial was sent to fetch supplies for Master and it was out on the empty streets she met her. On such empty streets no one noticed the elder smuggler approaching the slave. She asked if Menial wanted her freedom. Not knowing anything other than this life Menial didn’t understand the concept of freedom. Confused by the question she responded like she usually would, with a simple nodd. She didn’t know what it was she had gotten herself into.
Told to follow she obliged, lead to a small store down the alley, quick glances to the store clerk and then behind a bookcase. A set of stairs leading down, then the embrace of rocky walls. Menial doesn’t know how long they spent down in the cavern but eventually they were met by sunlight. Never before had Menial seen so much green, nor the lack of Valorian walls. There a group of horses waited, over half of them with the Aodhian brand. They introduced themselves as ‘Vindicators’, Menial had heard of them before but knew very little of them. After accompanying them further she was asked to join their cause. Once again Menial didn’t fully understand the meaning of what they were asking, once again she nodded.
The question is how long she’ll last.

Extra:
Case of PTSD, easily triggered when feeling confined, violently threatened, or by bloody scenes
Can’t read and has little to no knowledge of any herds or factions other than Aodh
Doesn’t find logic in praying to gods, considering all the crap going on they don’t seem to care

Description
''Who are we to wonder where we're going. Who am I to tell me who I am.''

Name: Menial (Mee-nee-uh l)
    Meaning: lowly, sometimes degrading
Age: 19
Zodiac: The Zesla, sign of Resilience
Gender: Mare
Breed: Horse
Build: Majority of her body is of slender light-build with long legs and neck. Hind legs, rump and back are of heavy draft build, well muscled and equipped with big, sharp hooves. Thunderthighs. She could crush more than a melon with those.
Color: Black sabino splash with bald face
Height: 15.2 hh

Relationships: N/A
Relatives: Unknown heavy draft father (pit-fighter), Unknown light built mother (servile)

Herd Affiliation: Vagabond
    Previous: Aodh
Rank: Soldier
    Previous: Pit-fighter
Talent: N/A
Blessing: N/A
Familiar: N/A

Patreon God: No.
Religious: Hell no.

Items: Thick vines as a tail wrap, free vagabond item
Marks: Aodhian slave brand on left shoulder, littered with scars but all covered by a thick coat, left eye’s iris is damaged and bloodied.

Personality:
Quiet but tempered and expressive
Menial has always known that a slave’s opinion is none worth sharing and that a tongue that talks too much gets cut off. She talks if spoken to but is very careful only to say the essentials and not to voice any opinions. Even though she might seem quiet there’s a lot of things going on in her mind, what she doesn’t say she thinks, and what she thinks grows into strong opinions. The fear of voicing them greatly frustrates her and makes her easily provoked and seemingly aggressive, especially to those with opposing views. One should be careful for when she feels threatened or cornered she goes back to her fighting days, ferociously attacking anything or anyone near without proper thought.
However, it’s usually not too difficult to figure out how she’s feeling if you’re perceptive enough. She’s a restless soul that can’t stand still for long, making her body-language very expressive. Be it with annoyed stares, facial expressions, scraping hooves or a disapproving brow she unintentionally sends more signals than she could ever imagine.

Obedient and Indecisive
As a slave the ability to follow commands without question is of utmost importance. When Menial was first put on the market it was made sure that she’d follow her master’s every whim, if not out of free will then out of fear. She still has a slave’s mindset making it difficult for her to act on her own accord and her new position amongst the vindicators… difficult. She has a hard time knowing how to act, She still feels the obligation to satisfy others and will do anything asked of her, even though she might not agree with it or understand it. She heavily relies on others to tell her what to do.

Lost, on the hunt for purpose
Menial has a hard time coming to terms with her freedom. All she’s ever known is serving her master and fighting in the crucible, the sudden change of environment has made her feel lost and confused. Sure, her past life wasn’t a good one but it was simple and easy to understand, she had a purpose. With all that gone Menial doesn’t know what to do with herself but she craves that lost sense of meaning, for without it she is nothing.

Cautious
She’s become one of the Vindicator’s soldiers and is horrified by the fact that she’s now the enemy of Aodh. She doesn’t feel the Vindicators stand a fighting chance. Many times has she considered heading back to Master in case she’d forgive but she knows forgiveness isn’t a common trait amongst owners. If it was possible to get her out of Aodh it should be just as possible to get her back in, maybe they are already looking for her? She is very on edge around strangers, especially those of Aodhian origin, because who knows who they might really be.

Curious
Like many slaves Menial had very little education. Although she generally just accept the way things are that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to know why. What are all those intricate marks on the parchment? What more is there than Aodh? What are the so called ¨cultists¨? Of course she’d never ask for answers but she intriguingly listens to everything anyone might say and remembers it, hoping it will one day help her understand this chaotic world.

Compassionate
Although she hasn’t changed her ways after moving in with the Vindicators something about their friendly faces seems to have affected her. She no longer acts simply by what she’s told out of obedience but because sometimes she seems to want to. She’s started going out of her way to see if others are doing okay. It’s the little things she does, giving silent company to those who seem to need it or a shoulder to lean on. It’s a subtle change, not enough for even herself to notice the difference, but the newfound sense of compassion is clear. Proving that there might be something more living to discover under that dense coating.

History:
Childhood (0-12)
Slavery life is all Menial had ever known. How she was ripped away from her slave parents, made into property and branded, prancing for the amusement of her superiors. That’s all she would ever be to them, a toy meant to amuse. As soon as she could properly walk she was put through vigorous training to succeed in that simple, menial task. Such a meager thing needed an equally meager name. A name that would remind her of who she was, repelling any possible sense of self-worth that might reside within. Being the offspring of a priced pit-fighter she showed the potential for fighting physique and would follow his legacy, her fate had been decided.

Teen-years (13-18)
Menial no longer remembered her parents. Every day was the same and with such a repetitive schedule there was no need to dwell on the past. There was always techniques to be practiced, punishments to be had or smaller tasks to be done, but she had started to grow into this way of life. As back-breaking of a task it was to constantly push her body to the maximum it gave her a sense of purpose. When successfully downing an opponent, be it practice dummy or bait horse, it was the only time she received some sort of recognition and the feeling of being a little more than an object, to feel more alive.
Upon her eighteenth birthday it was time for her to enter the crucible for the first time. The watchful eyes looking down from the crowd with such anticipation, the loud cheers, the blinding light from the sun, the horse of at least twice her size standing on the opposite side. She wasn’t expected to win, after all it was her first real fight. The question was how long she’d last.
In the end she wasn’t beaten as much as she was turned into a bloodied stain on the floor. She had no memory of the previous day, only the excruciating pain simply by breathing. Apparently she had been a hard nut to crack.
Young Adult (19)
Over the coming year Menial did quite well in the Crucible. In the pit she turned into an animal. She wouldn’t think, turning to instincts and desperation, kicking and biting anything she could to end the match as soon as possible. Her fights were always short lived, either the opponent quickly became overwhelmed by the ferocity and brutality or Menial’s brawns over brains tactic would be outsmarted by more clever opponents. She absolutely despised the Crucible, but she knew it was what she was meant to do.
But then the news came. Someone had died, the boy king had been assassinated. The mourning days insured and fear and uncertainty followed. Even after the three mourning days it didn’t all go back to normal. With the numerous disappearances of well-known figures most people stayed indoors, but that didn’t stop slaves from doing their duties. Menial was sent to fetch supplies for Master and it was out on the empty streets she met her. On such empty streets no one noticed the elder smuggler approaching the slave. She asked if Menial wanted her freedom. Not knowing anything other than this life Menial didn’t understand the concept of freedom. Confused by the question she responded like she usually would, with a simple nodd. She didn’t know what it was she had gotten herself into.
Told to follow she obliged, lead to a small store down the alley, quick glances to the store clerk and then behind a bookcase. A set of stairs leading down, then the embrace of rocky walls. Menial doesn’t know how long they spent down in the cavern but eventually they were met by sunlight. Never before had Menial seen so much green, nor the lack of Valorian walls. There a group of horses waited, over half of them with the Aodhian brand. They introduced themselves as ‘Vindicators’, Menial had heard of them before but knew very little of them. After accompanying them further she was asked to join their cause. Once again Menial didn’t fully understand the meaning of what they were asking, once again she nodded.
The question is how long she’ll last.

Extra:
Case of PTSD, easily triggered when feeling confined, violently threatened, or by bloody scenes
Can’t read and has little to no knowledge of any herds or factions other than Aodh
Doesn’t find logic in praying to gods, considering all the crap going on they don’t seem to care