Name:
Fallon

True Name:
Naomh (pronounced “neev”)

Race:
Wood Elf

Court:
Prefers to ignore any and all politics. Her grandparents, whom she never knew, were firmly under the Seelie Court.

Background:
Fallon grew up in a room above a shady Blight tavern with her mother and father. They all shared the one dirty little room, and Fallon was often left to herself while her parents were out making very little money. She was used to this alone time and would often spend it either playing with her ragged little doll her father had once brought home for her or exploring the noisy, smelly streets and alleys. One might look at the sight of a barefoot little elf running around Blight unsupervised and tut quietly to themselves, but eventually the regulars grew used to the sight of her and ignored as they did the other Blight children.

Mother and Father hadn’t come home for a few days when the knock came. Fallon stood carefully, feeling slightly lightheaded. She was unsure of how to respond to the unexpected knock, for she was simply a child, and she was alone. She didn’t have long to ponder the question before the knocker thrust open the door heavily – it offered no resistance. An Iron Monster loomed in the doorway. It wasted no time as it boomed “Gather your things. Quickly, now, scoundrel! Come!”

Something about the monster made Fallon sick to her stomach, and her dizziness increased. Fearfully the little elf girl did as she was commanded. After stuffing all she could into her slender arms, she followed the Iron Monster with the decorated armour outside into the streets, where her mother was waiting with another Iron Monster. Out in the light Fallon realized that these weren’t monsters, they were humans wearing a Monster’s skin. Fallon was thrust towards her mother, roughly crashing into her. Then the two iron-clad humans stood, as though guards, at the door of the tavern. It was clear that they would no longer be living there.

A few days of living on the streets proved to be too much for Fallon’s mother. Oftentimes she’d snap at Fallon quite out of the blue, saying “We’re both going to die out here, don’t you understand! Your father … oh, that father of yours … he’s destroyed us! The Iron Police are going to come for us. They’re going to round us up, take us to the camps!” It only took a few days for her mother to sell Fallon to some strange women. Fallon could remember standing on the broken steps of an old building, looking up at three tall, lovely but painted women. Her mother was bargaining for something. “No, fifty … Look here, she’s young but she’s already so beautiful. She’s growing fast, she’ll be ripe soon. Fine, but I won't go lower than forty!”

Thinking on it many years later, Fallon supposed that was her mother’s form of saving her from the cruelty of the camps. At least the brothel could take care of her, and she formed a sort of family there. Years of experience and building a reputation helped Fallon climb up towards a slightly more prestigious but no more dignified role as an escort.

Possessions:
- An old, ragged doll from her childhood
- Several simple dresses and one or two more elegant gowns, most given to her by her customers
- A small simple hand mirror
- Various “makeup”

Talents:
As is the Elven way, she is very emotionally sensitive to those around her. Sometimes, if the thought is strong enough, Fallon can pick up on words or images from a person, almost as though reading their mind. Or, with other Elves whom she is close to, she can exchange some messages between them without speaking a word.
Other than that, Fallon is clever and resourceful, having scrabbled her way up from nothing since she was a little girl. Her life in the brothel has taught her many things, and being able to read people has been an immense asset as well as a disadvantage, as some of the humans she has served in the past have been … less than honourable.