Alt of
Ranavalona, general preferences apply.
For such a long-lived species, Fionavar's adventures begin quite early in her life. Raised in a reclusive forest community dedicated to training those who showed natural promise in the druidic arts, a powerful reverence for nature and natural things was persistently drilled into the young girl as simple universal facts. Imagine her consternation and fascination, then, when coming upon a human witch while wandering through the forest gathering herbs one afternoon. Sitting in hiding and watching her for hours, Fiona observed the magnificent woman systematically destroying the forest's population of oversized spiders. Some were burnt to cinders under gouts of summoned flame from her manicured fingertips, and many others were subdued and brutally crushed beneath the witch's gleaming, fashionable boots. Most striking, though, was the degree of satisfaction and pleasure this strange and powerful woman seemed to take in grinding out the lives of these beasts. She slipped from hiding and encountered the woman, and never returned to her home again.
For years, she traveled with the witch, living as her adored companion. While her own talents for druidic magic continued to develop, she learned to apply them in a variety of unorthodox ways. Despite the aid offered her by her keeper in these developments, though, she was still very much a servant to the witch's whims. Never truly abused, she simply followed at her heels and obeyed her for the fact that she felt this to be naturally correct.
This would begin many years of wandering and subservience to powerful women for Fionavar. Her witch disappeared into a vortex one night and never returned. She was drawn into a cult at one point, persuaded by a strange, tattooed former elven druidess to follow and adore her for a time, again giving her the benefit of furthering her studies. After that woman's assassination, she was taken in as a servant by a fairly important and powerful baroness. Again, she was drawn to magical ability, serving this half-elven sorceress for many years, rising from a simple housemaid to her most trusted slave and member of her elite guard. Years of worshiping and adoring this magnificent woman included sating her desires for both sadism and masochism, suffering greatly at her hands and learning how to reverently imbue pain and suffering within the superior Lady. During these long years, her mastery of her discipline's healing techniques grew and grew, and in time her renown as a tremendously capable healer within the Lady's House spread. Time continued to pass, and the Baroness's attentions gradually waned, though her expectations of young Fionavar did not. She would eventually disappear from the manor one evening and, once again, never return.
In all her years of service, Fionavar's fascination with power only grew within her. From watching the witch callously grind the lives of those forest creatures into a mess of trampled cinders beneath her spectacular boots, to lying curled at the feet of the supposedly divine-touched druidess, to being bound and bleeding on the floor, the towering baroness high above, slowly twisting her elegant court shoe into the awestruck elf girl's face... these moments stuck with her, leaving her shuddering at night with longing. Being beneath a woman of power, viewing Her from the floor, seeing Her as a towering goddess, imagining Her power to stamp the life from her subjects in an instant... the fantasies pushed at her in her solitude.
There had been times in her past where she'd had a taste of that power. In moments of depression for the Baroness, she's insist on subjection to exceptional pain and, on occasion, Fionavar would get carried away, humiliating the Lady and demanding the woman's worship and praise for her power and skill. There was something about feeling that woman's trembling lips against her toes as she pleaded for respite that never left young Fionavar's mind.
She'd also experimented with sizechanging here and there, mostly for the Baroness's benefit. At times when she was given to offering tiny playthings for the Lady to encourage her when she was amidst one of her famous swings of depression, trying to remind her of what terrible and exciting power she possessed. With some urging, the Baroness would make use of the gifts, setting some aflame, pleasuring herself with others, and to Fionavar's special excitement, she'd undoubtedly tread upon a few of them as well. It wasn't clear why this particular display of power so exhilarated the young elf girl, but it was only a matter of time before she experimented with it herself.
Currently, Fionavar lives with one of the witch's castoffs, a young girl robbed of free will by dark, manipulative magic. She's kept the lovely thing with her as a sort of companion and pet, finding her loveliness enjoyable and cheerful willingness to do whatever she's told tremendously helpful. Fionavar has also developed a hobby, taking a demented and delightful joy in shrinking and abducting mostly society's trash... broken men from war-torn areas or indigent individuals unlikely to be missed. Her magics alone allow for only brief manipulation of her victims' size, but with the help of technology obtained from her pet's engineering skills, she's managed to make the effects of that shrinking permanent. Viewing these little creatures as inferior beings existing only for her benefit, she's started to experiment on them, examining and pushing to see what they can withstand, both physically and emotionally. Often they are encouraged quite brutally to worship her as some sort of twisted goddess, and very frequently they meet their end underfoot when their usefulness has expired, or Fiona's whim desires it. Her research continues with the goal of inverting her techniques and eventually allowing her to grow to tremendous heights in a sustainable and unimpeachable fashion, giving her the opportunity to show this silly, ugly little world the bottoms of her boots and receive the worship her skill, power and beauty warrant.
