Name: Elizabeth Rose Oleander
Age: 27
Profession: Linguist (translator). Also studies archeology--specifically archaic languages.
Appearance: Eliza carries her 5’6” stature well, her slender figure lending her a bit of an advantage over her male counterparts. While in the public eye, she typically wears blouses and skirts, her chocolate brown hair pulled away from her face to accentuate her eyes of the same color.
Personality: To be discovered...but she is an intelligent woman that exudes confidence in most situations.
History: Eliza grew up in the shadow of her father, a successful archeologist and businessman. Losing her mother at an early age, she often accompanied and assisted him on his digs into foreign lands, her small frame perfect for crawling into tight crevices. She learned to love the hot weather, the sands, and the strenuous work...her school studies done on location with a private tutor by her side. It was a life she loved and desired to continue...but on her eighteenth birthday, her hopes were crushed, her father deciding it was time for her to pursue her furthering education in the normal fashion.
Eliza went to a women’s college and studied foreign languages and geography. She also learned to play the piano, cook, sew, serve a four-course meal...things she cared little for, but were required for her to pass. She left four years later with a degree in linguistics, and the knowledge to run a household. She had little desire to use either, but at least she was free to live her life again.
Over the next few years, Eliza worked her trade, both in the city and in the field, helping her father once again, but this time with translations on artifacts he found on his adventures. She traveled with him when she could...and when he would allow...but her life became bogged down with the threat of war, her ability to translate several different languages keeping her close to home. It was during this time that tragedy hit...her father mysteriously dying while in Africa...and by the time his body was returned to her, he was no longer recognizable, his cause of illness rotting with him.
She became wealthy overnight, her father’s estate coming into her name once the funeral was behind her. Devastated, all she could think about was his love of the hunt...the adventure...and how it had all been cut short. He had been returned to her with only two of his belongings...a cracked piece of pottery with etchings along it...and his notebook. She became obsessed, reading his notes until she knew every word by heart. She decided she would finish this last labor of love in his name. She would go to Africa and find the lost city that he had been searching for...make his last dream come true.
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