<div style="max-width:1100px;margin:0 auto;padding:14px 12px;"> <div style=" background: #0a0c12; border: 2px solid #7c3aed; border-radius: 18px; padding: 16px;"> <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="Jess The Seamstress.png" alt="Jess portrait" style=" width:100%; max-width:520px; height:auto; border-radius: 18px; border: 2px solid rgba(124,58,237,.55); box-shadow: 0 14px 35px rgba(0,0,0,.18);"> </div> </div> </div> <div style=" background: rgba(10,12,18,.85); border: 1px solid rgba(124,58,237,.25); border-radius: 18px; padding: 14px; box-shadow: 0 12px 28px rgba(0,0,0,.25); "> <div style="font-size:14px;letter-spacing:.18em;text-transform:uppercase;color:rgba(245,248,255,.70);margin-bottom:10px;"> </div> <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="Jess-turnaround.gif" alt="Jess mini" style="width:100%;max-width:380px;height:auto;border-radius:16px;border:1px solid rgba(124,58,237,.25);box-shadow:0 10px 22px rgba(0,0,0,.35);margin:6px;"> </div> </div> Husband: [[Derek Wulvenhaus]] ## Born Between Two Worlds > [!abstract] GUILD ARCHIVE • PERSONAL HISTORY Jess was never delicate, never dainty, and never the kind of woman people expected in a tailor’s shop. > Born to Richard, a gruff but kind-hearted [[Orc]], and Grenda, a towering, no-nonsense [[Goliath]], Jess grew up in a household that thrived on hard work and blunt honesty. Her father had been a blacksmith, her mother a stoneworker, and her older brother, Draxis, had taken to mercenary work at an early age. Jess? She sewed. > It started small, fixing her father’s worn-out tunics, patching Draxis’ torn training gear, and eventually piecing together enough skill to turn it into a trade. Her parents never questioned her choice; Wulvenhaus, or not, [[orc]], [[goliath]], or [[humans|Human]], every warrior needs good clothes. > Her childhood was spent running through the [[City of Alexandria]]’s bustling streets, navigating the sharp tongues of haggling merchants, and learning that a well-stitched seam could hold a warrior’s armour together just as well as a steel plate. ## Draxis, The Reckless Brother > [!info] GUILD RECORD Her older brother, Draxis, was everything Jess wasn’t. While she had a sharp tongue and a sharper needle, Draxis had a sword and an appetite for battle. > He was reckless, charming, and frustratingly good at talking his way out of trouble. He joined a mercenary company the moment he was old enough, eager to prove himself as a warrior. Jess worried constantly. > Draxis, on the other hand? He laughed off her concern, always telling her: _"Relax, sis. You handle the stitching, I’ll handle the bleeding."_ She hated that joke. > But deep down, she knew Draxis wasn’t as invincible as he liked to pretend. ## A Life of Thread and Stress > [!info] GUILD RECORD By the time she was in her twenties, Jess had built a reputation for herself as one of Alexandria’s finest tailors. Not just because her work was flawless, but because she could deal with the worst kind of customers. > - Mercenaries who treated their gear like disposable rags. > - Nobles who wanted embroidery so complex it made her want to scream. > - Adventurers who only came in when they were bleeding all over the floor. > Jess was always stressed, always overworked, and always cursing under her breath. But she loved her work, even if she would never admit it. She had no patience for nonsense, no time for romance, and no interest in mercenaries who thought they were gods just because they could swing a sword. > And then [[Derek Wulvenhaus]] walked into her shop. ## The Mercenary Who Wouldn’t Leave > [!info] GUILD RECORD The first time Jess met [[Derek Wulvenhaus|Derek]], she barely looked up. > _"You rip it, you pay extra."_ > [[Derek Wulvenhaus|Derek]] chuckled. "I’ll try not to get stabbed next time, then." > He was annoyingly polite. Too formal, too noble, too… composed. She’d dealt with enough mercenaries to know when someone was trouble, and this one? He had that look. The kind of man who had seen too much, carried too much weight, and pretended he didn’t. > Jess should have ignored him. She didn’t. Because [[Derek Wulvenhaus|Derek]] kept coming back. > At first, it was always for repairs, his vest torn, his cloak singed, his sleeves slashed in ways that made her wonder what the hell he was _doing_ with his life. Then he started staying longer. Talking. Asking about her work. Asking about Alexandria. Asking about her. > Jess didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust him. But damn it, there was something about the way he listened. Really listened. She tried not to care. She really did. > But one night, when [[Derek Wulvenhaus|Derek]] stumbled into her shop looking like he’d been through the Nine Hells and back, bruised and bleeding, she didn’t hesitate. She sat him down, stitched him up, and for the first time, didn’t tell him to leave. ## Falling for the Stubborn Idiot > [!info] GUILD RECORD Jess wasn’t the kind of woman who fell for grand romantic gestures. [[Derek Wulvenhaus|Derek]] never gave her flowers. He never wrote her poetry. He never did anything overly dramatic. > Instead, he showed up when she needed an extra pair of hands, even when she didn’t ask. He listened when she ranted about customers, even when he had worse problems. He sat with her when she worked late, even if he said nothing at all. > One day, when she was so stressed out she could barely see straight, [[Derek Wulvenhaus|Derek]] simply walked into her shop, took one look at her, and said, "Breathe, Jess." And she did. That was the moment she knew. ## Draxis and the Moment of Truth > [!info] GUILD RECORD Jess never expected her brother to approve of [[Derek Wulvenhaus|Derek]]. But Draxis took one look at the mercenary standing awkwardly in Jess’ shop and smirked. _"Oh gods, you’re the first man she hasn’t threatened to stab."_ > [[Derek Wulvenhaus|Derek]], to his credit, only chuckled. _"She still might."_ Draxis laughed. "Good. That means she likes you." [[Derek Wulvenhaus|Derek]] never tried to "win" her family’s approval. He never needed to. He just fit. And Jess? For the first time, she stopped worrying about what came next. > Because whether it was a quiet night in her shop, a chaotic evening patching up some reckless adventurer, or a life spent with the stubborn mercenary who refused to leave, she was exactly where she was meant to be. ## Personality & Traits > [!info] GUILD RECORD > - Sharp-Tongued but Soft-Hearted – She’ll scold you for ripping your coat, but she’ll fix it anyway. > - Stress-Fuelled Perfectionist – Every stitch must be flawless. No exceptions. > - Loyal to the End – If Jess cares about you, you’ll never have to wonder. > - Tired of Adventurers – She loves them. She hates them. She fixes their messes anyway. > - [[Derek Wulvenhaus|Derek]]’s Sanity Anchor – If he’s too serious, she’ll knock him down a peg. ## Jess Wulvenhaus, Stressed Seamstress of Alexandria > [!info] GUILD RECORD Jess never wanted a life of battle. Never wanted grand adventures or dangerous quests. She wanted a simple life, a good business, and a future that didn’t involve constant chaos. Instead, she got Draxis, [[Derek Wulvenhaus|Derek]], and an endless parade of reckless mercenaries. And somehow? She wouldn’t change a damn thing. #### After the Jump ##### **Derek and Jess – The New Family** Derek continued his tireless work aiding refugees, but his life changed most with Jess. Together they brought new life into the keep, a child whose birth drew the whole community together. The Griffon hosted a night of soft songs and toasts, and the baby quickly became the keep’s darling. The cradle, crookedly carved by goblins and sturdily finished by Yvette, rocked by Modeng’s tail, sat at the centre of the nursery corner Jess organised for new families. Jess herself became a steady anchor for daily life. She coordinated supplies, shared childcare among mothers and fathers, and reminded warriors and wanderers alike that the future they fought for had a face, a laugh, and tiny fingers clutching theirs. Derek, meanwhile, remained the dependable organiser, bridging refugees and guild alike. He worked with Graxen on resettlement and rebuilding, his drive sharpened by fatherhood. Where once he was respected, now he was beloved.