Amelya was born among the common population, in the far-reaching outskirts of Karosgrad to a small family of farmhands. She was born and raised with the expectation that she would amount to no more than the pious and quiet housewife to a coarse and boorish stablehand or a soldier of good stock. Amelya, though was inclined to aim above her station, always enamoured by the ladies of the Haeseni court and tales of Isabel of Valwyck, the dancing queen. She swiftly fell into training as a seamstress, enthralled by the seasonal courtly fashioned and determined to introduce herself to the noblity through trade. She continues to further educate herself on fashion and style beyond the basics, in hopes to obtain a credible position to maintain stability for her family. She's currently settled in Karosgrad concentrated upon on her passion as a seamstress with support from her friends from her youth and her family.
Amelya stopped for a brief moment to look the man up and down, impressed by his finery and the manner of his greeting. "Prevja" she would greet him, offering a terse smile in acknowledgement of his wares. "I am in need of good quality cloth for a dress I'm cutting in time for Tuvmas." She would kneel slightly to run a finger along the surface of a rolled bolt of deep blue silk, fascinated by it's fine craftmanship. Amelya, reaching into her satchel to dig around for what few remaining Minas she has would inquire "And how much for this, just one bolt would do." With a thin smirk the merchant would reply "Thirty, for a lass such as yourself." Nodding in acknowledgement and resting the silk under her arm, Amelya set off further into the bazaar to search for something to quench her thirst.
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