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Fantasy An Earthen Lament | OOC [FULL]

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also sorry to @ you twice |D but yeah in agreement with Pharm, Frei's undercover as a knight-errant, and shouldn't be displaying anything "Inquisitor"-y as a heads-up!
lort thanks i shall consider here on, but then we all under disguise anyway hell yeah
 
Remember! Those experienced with the southern provinces will know that the marshlands and frontier woodlands are dangerous places. Elven Ruins are notorious for being death traps due to banditry, slavers, and magical circumstances. The veil is thinner around elven structures and as such dreams are more vivid, spirits whisper louder--especially to mages, and monstrous creatures of all kinds naturally seem to gather nearby. Most southron humans treat such places with suspicion and caution for valid reasons, not just ignorant superstition.
 
Remember! Those experienced with the southern provinces will know that the marshlands and frontier woodlands are dangerous places. Elven Ruins are notorious for being death traps due to banditry, slavers, and magical circumstances. The veil is thinner around elven structures and as such dreams are more vivid, spirits whisper louder--especially to mages, and monstrous creatures of all kinds naturally seem to gather nearby. Most southron humans treat such places with suspicion and caution for valid reasons, not just ignorant superstition.
omg i love you i was gonna ask to roll history check !! i can't wait for rowan to be dancing with things more powerful than she's ever experienced!!!!!
 
Yeah, feel free to ask me about things like that if I don't make those kind of announcements. :closed eyes open smile:
 
ooo YEA boys its out, its shit, im ready to die and still
 
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Added a thread specifically for alerts and other "GM outcomes and knowledges" not necessarily covered by the lore codex in relation to post-by-post basis. Don't post there, but do ask me to do dungeon master-esque things here and answers will show up there.
 
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[div class=headerleft]Pippin Merryweather
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Female Human (Féngar)
Ranger | Lady of House Merryweather

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[div class=headermain]Personality

Pippin is as stereotypical as it comes to marshlanders.

Her distrust of magicians and other members of the otherworldly sort goes beyond even that of an inquistor. Perhaps because of her Southron heritage one could consider it being a rather biased opinion, but throughout the years Pippin has come to the conclusion that magic is inherently evil. From dragons burning down cities to witches cursing entire villages, Pippin sees no saving grace regarding any use of magic, for it has done more wrong than it ever will do right.

In turn, this superstition plays largely into the rest of Pippin's personality. Pippin's disgust towards magic has given rise to a quick temper that singles her out as an easy target to goad into lashing out. That being said, she is more likely to sling a hundred insults than swing a hundred swings of her sword (unless you're a mage, of course), knowing full well not to bring dishonor to her family's house.

Still, though she may be superstitious, loudmouthed and brash, however, Pippin firmly believes what she is doing for the good of her people—for the good of the marshland. Her hands must dirty themselves in sin so that the children of the marshes may sleep at night and spouses do not need to mourn the partner's death.

If being a despised brute is what Pippin must be for the better of her homeland, then so she will be. Whether or not it is the correct path is another question for another time.

[div class=headermain]Background[/div]
Though Pippin had been the oldest of four, her destiny would not be made by politics and courtship; rather it'd forged by blade and flame. Like most Merryweathers, Pippin was but a young girl when she was inducted into the Blackwardens, an ancient order of sophisticated hunters of the occult that had been founded when the world was new.

Whilst it had been her father, Lord Giram Merryweather, who pressed Pippin into service, there was something she found enjoyable about her destiny. Though Pippin would rather chew her tongue off than admit it, she desired to be like her ancestor, Aethelstan, who had been said to have slain the elder dragon, Sandalphon, saving the Kingdom of Féngarde and all the marshland from destruction. He was a hero, and she wanted to be one, too.

This desire—along with the natural talent that resided within Aethelstan's bloodline—would prove Pippin a quick learner, taking to her new calling like a fish to water. It hadn't been long before Pippin was joining her father and his men on expeditions, flushing out the wickedness from deep within the marshes at the young age of sixteen.

For the next two decades, this would be her life. From cutting off the heads of known cultists to getting the snot kicked out of her by golems and other large marsh beasts, Pippin stood as a stalwart protector of the marshes.

Until now.

Recently, Pippin had been approached by a mysterious benefactor, one which claimed to know the location of Dragonsbane—the legendary sword of her ancestor. Though there was no certainty to the rumor, Pippin found herself compelled to at least consider it, for the rumor spoke of Salathiel, a mage of ill repute and prey that had proved to be rather elusive. She simply couldn't allow him to use the blade's power to fulfill his dark wishes.

Choosing to join a merchant's caravan, Pippin began the trek to Hleów, where Salathiel had last been reported to be near. She hoped the rumors were simply rumors, but ultimately, that would be a matter for the gods.

[div class=headermain]Skills & Abilities[/div]
Though a member of the Blackwardens is destined to be skilled in many, many things, some of Pippin's traits inevitably stand out more than others:

Inspirational Willpower: Though Pippin tends to be ruthless with her words, there is no denying that she isn't a natural-born leader. The blood of Aethelstan runs within Pippin, commanding the loyalty and ensuring the morale of her comrades and followers as she stands fearlessly against the wicked threats of the marshes.

Occult Huntswoman: Despite her wariness towards magic and that of the otherworldly, Pippin has learned quite a bit about the nature of her foes as part of her Blackwarden training since she was just a wee kid. Though most of the information is situational, Pippin is rather capable of applying it to the field if needed.

Strong-armed: Unlike the frail, courtly ladies of some noble houses, Pippin is a monster of strength. She has a nasty throwing arm, being more than capable of sending a javelin flying into her target, and that the heavy weight of plate is more of an inconvenience than anything to Pippin. Rumor has it that Pippin once cleaved a man's skull through his helmet—a rumor she doesn't deny or admit to.

Weapon Versatility: Being both a noble and a warden, Pippin knows how to kill things in several different ways. Though she is primarily skilled in fighting with a sword and a shield, Pippin is also adept in using throwing javelins and bows within combat.

[div class=headermain]Equipment[/div]
  • Backpack
    • 3x Dressings
    • 1x Coin purse
    • 1x Flask of spider ichor
    • 1x Handwritten journal
    • 50x Hempen rope (per foot)
    • 1x Jar of ink
    • 2x Medicated salves
    • 1x Mess kit
    • 10x Rations (per day)
    • 1x Salt pouch
    • 1x Tinderbox
    • 10x Torches
    • 1x Waterskin
    • 1x Writing quill
  • 1x Dagger
  • 3x Javelins
  • 1x Longsword, engraved with silver
  • 1x Shield
  • 1x Splintmail

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Gowi Gowi i made the sheet now stop bullying me GOSH
 
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I sent you a DM regarding some minor changes and clarifications needed. But once those are in you should be good to post the sheet and start posting ICly.
 

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[div class=headerleft]Talaith Glasshand the Forsaken
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Gender: Female
Race: Nomadic Tylwyth Teg
Age: 27
Class: Druid/Nature Mage
Occupation: Herbalist/Apothecary

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[div class=headermain]Apperance

Talaith stands at about 4 feet 9 and is of petite built.

She has slate-gray eyes and wavy flaxen hair that falls just past her shoulders.

The skin of her left hand, from fist to elbow, also appears to have hardened. It appears and feels akin to glassy marble.

[div class=headermain]Personality[/div]
Talaith is by heart and nature an exceedingly sanguine individual. Precociously bright from an early age with effervescent curiosity that sometimes pushes her across boundaries of what would be acceptable or safe to others. She gives off a cheery vibe, and by speaking to her, one would surely be able to feel a sense of wide-eyed wonder. An unsullied hope and excitement for what the future would bring. Nevertheless, exuberance can and does rub people the wrong way.

Having lived on her own for quite some time away from her erstwhile clan, she has turned into a much more reticent individual. A defense mechanism born out of necessity to survive among humankind. She'd long learned that to stick out from the rest was to invite trouble and heartbreak, things she learned from experiences that even now, haunt her deepest nightmares. Being Tylwyth Teg already meant sticking out, so she had to do everything she could to repress herself.

Nevertheless, her lucent spirit would truly never be allowed to die, and she longs for the day where she can be herself again. If one could look past her guarded tones and sometimes abrupt dismissive speech, one would see in her eyes, a soul longing to be freed.

[div class=headermain]Background[/div]
Talaith Glasshand. Forsaken of Clan Virahnnen.

The Tylwyth Teg of Clan Virahnnen like most of their nomadic kin are staunch believers of the Old Paths. In as much as possible, they strive to keep the customs and traditions of their ancients alive. In particular, they revere a lesser-known god, Horweth the Wayfarer. Also known as the Great White Wolf and Guardian God of Travellers. The few shrines that remain in Lerenthia can be found amidst the thick forests of the Sendarfelds, a region of forests that borders the Southron marshes.

This is where Clan Virahnnen roam.

Talaith was the daughter of domestic elves, a pair of young lovers that aspired for a better life away from the stifling prejudice of their human 'betters'. As soon as Talaith could speak whole sentences, they fled from their home district in Anemor, finally glad to be free of the lowly gutter. It was a journey that took months as they sought any information that could point them to the various Wild Elven clans that roam the Southron lands. An arduous task but they never once gave up hope.

Eventually, they heard of the Virahnnen and sought them out despite warnings of the risks. The nomadic tribes were elusive, and many lost their lives to the wilds seeking them out. Nevertheless, Lyriandae seemed to watch over the small family and soon they found tracks that marked the presence of the clan. But just when things were starting to look for the better, the Goddess abandoned them. Beset by Swamp Trolls, mortal foes of the Virahnnen Clan, Talaith's father gave his life in sacrifice to buy time for his wife and daughter to escape. The Virahnnen arrived barely in time to save a very young Talaith; though her mother was gravely injured and died due to her wounds. The Virahnnen generally despise domestic elves, viewing them as weak and faithless and considered abandoning the young child.

But the Elder saw something in the child's eyes and he could not bear to leave her be. He decided to take her in. She grew up in his care, and despite her tragic beginnings, thrived on his love and proved herself to be particularly adept at druidic magic. Elder Arthfael held nothing back from his adoptive daughter and taught her everything he knew as long as she could contain it. Time passed and eventually, most of the Virahnnen began to accept her as one of them, though there were those that still despised her. Still, she worked hard and gave much to the clan eventually becoming poised to be the Elder's Second. One of the first elves to welcome her, now a dear friend, Iorweth was the Elder's first.

Alas, the dreaded Swamp Trolls returned in a horde of fury. The Tylwyth Teg rose up to meet them, seeking to rid themselves of the troll menace once and for all. Battle plans were laid out and a trap was set. A small party led by Iorweth and Talaith was sent to deal with a roving band of trolls split up from the main horde. The plan was simple. Their warriors would lure the trolls into an area of the swamps, seemingly cornered. All Talaith had to do was call upon her magic, using the mass of thick vines and sticky mud to thoroughly entrap their foes. But at the last moment, she froze. Visions of gnashing teeth and savage roars overwhelmed her. She was once again a weeping little child, dragged away by her mother as her father was crushed by a savage blow.

The fear consumed her and she turned and ran. All the warriors including beloved Iorweth perished. She returned to the camp a hysterical sobbing mass, terrified at the slaughter and ashamed for what she had done. Even if she hadn't confessed her cowardice hadn't gone unnoticed by the scouts. To make matters worse, all the initial prejudice towards the outsider was brought to the surface. She wasn't just a coward. She had betrayed her people at a crucial moment and should be punished. Conflicted about passing judgement but bound by duty, Elder Arthfael took Talaith to be judged by Horweth at one of his shrines before of the Clan. They were to perform the Rite of Judgement where the Elder announced the accusation before the witness of Horweth. Both Elder and accused would then spill blood on the statue before touching it. If she was guilty and worthy of the ultimate punishment, by touching the stone statue she would herself be turned to stone.

Lachrymose but accepting her fate, Talaith touched the rough white stone, and to her horror, pain shot through her hand as it took on a pale translucent hue. Her whole fist up till her elbow had become akin to glassy marble. Horweth had deemed her guilty, only in part. But the rest of the clan only saw blood. Arthfael had no choice but to banish Talaith if not to appease his people, then it was for her safety.

Thus she became Forsaken. Tylwyth Teg with no home. No family.

She survived on her own, eventually returning to the civilization of mankind where she makes a living as an apothecary. Staying just on the border of a Southron village where she serves any manner of people who require herbal potions.

[div class=headermain]Skills & Abilities[/div]
Taught by a Tylwyth Teg Elder himself, Talaith has proven herself to be exceptionally skilled and gifted in the art of Magic. In particular, nature magic. As a druid, her powers extend towards control and enhancement of flora, able to influence their capabilities to a great extent. Twisting vines can be sprouted in a moment of time from seeds. Sharp poisonous plant needles can be flung to incapacitate or even kill enemies. Spores can be sprayed in the faces of foes, causing painful torns to sprout and tear victims from within.

She also has some measure of earthshaping, capable of causing a reasonable area of ground to turn into quicksand or erupt rocks from the ground to crush enemies. She can also move and shape the earth around objects, allowing her to imprison smaller enemies in rock and stone. Nevertheless, earthshaping magic is exhaustive and exponentially draining the larger the amount of earth she works with. Additionally, soft ground is easier to handle than hard rocky ground such as a mountainside.

Spending almost all her living years in the wilds with the nomadic elves has also enabled her to have unparalleled knowledge of medicinal plants and herbs. Coupled with her druidic experienced, she is very capable of producing various potions, poisons and unguents with various reasonable effects.

Talaith is indisposed to activities that require great physical strength. To make up for her lack of physical capabilities, and the fact that she has to use magic sparingly to avoid suspicion, she has become decently adept with flinging sharp objects (i.e. daggers, spiteful remarks). She is also very capable at being a slippery eel to get the hell away when running is the best option.

[div class=headermain]Equipment[/div]
1 x Backpack, Bedroll and general survival necessities.
1 x Simple long walking stick (No Ser, Inquisitor Ser, this is not a staff. Just a walking stick I assure you.)
1 x Leatherbound Journal (Nope, not a spellbook! Definitely not!)
6 x small throwing daggers
1 x hunting knife
2 x herb and seed pouches
1 x padded vial pouch
1 x Dark blue cloak
1 x pendant of wreathed vines, twisted around a milky dark blue gemstone.
1 x waterskin
A few vials of various healing, enhancing potions.
A few vials of poisons.
1 x small coin purse. Mostly for novelty purchases as she can live off nature.
Spare clothing.
1 x Sewing kit.
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Whoops did i miss something? My height sliders are totally still adjustable!
I've always gravitated towards short elves. Just my preferences.

A tall elven female would be around 5'0" and a tall elven male would be around 5'3" or so.
 

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