Name: Thaddeus. Gender: Male. Age: He would appear to be in his thirties. Race: Man.
Appearance: The Watchful Man is a tall, striking figure of a lean build. He looks decidedly weather-worn; from his unkempt, black, shoulder-length hair, to the stubble on his face, to the disheveled status of his ranger's gear. What stands out among all the grime and the grit are his startlingly green eyes, twinkling with... yes, with what exactly?
History: Born in Brackenhorst, Thaddeus has roamed the land from a young age. Nobody is quite sure how exactly he came to be part of the Watchful, an order that has been on the decline for a long time, its purpose lost to history. Thaddeus has always watched over the men of the Fields, hunting down any and all signs of sinister activity. Every time, however, it has turned out to be something minor, or just another centaur attack. It was as if Thaddeus was looking for something that he couldn't find, suspecting a taint that wasn't there. About ten years ago, Thaddeus left Brackenhorst. Where he traveled, one couldn't say. South, perhaps, to the greater lands there, with their kings and wars and giant cities and self-importance.
The rumors drew him back. Was there finally something worth pursuing? Whatever the case might be, orcs being sighted in the Dark Forest is more than enough reason for him to investigate. They haven't been seen on this side of the Tall Mountains in generations. And so, he gathered a party of remarkable individuals. Now it's time to see what this fuss is all about.
Personality: Thaddeus is both serious and mischievous – a natural leader, always with a glint of humor in his eyes. He's easy to make friends with and generally quite likable, but sometimes infuriating in his insistence to keep information to himself, expecting others to trust and follow him completely. He is protective of and loyal to those by his side but he won't let them get in the way of his mission. Keeping the land safe is his paramount objective. Anything else, and anyone else, is secondary.
Skills: Thaddeus is a ranger, skilled with both the sword and the bow, though a master of neither. His true strength lies in tracking and investigating. His sharp eyes see things that others miss, his nose picks up trails that others can't find, his mind makes connections that others might not have thought of... and he remembers things that others no longer do.
Possessions: An iron longsword, a bow, a quiver with homemade arrows, a map, his drab ranger's clothing (including a leather greatcoat), a dagger, some coin, and an empty vial on a chain around his neck.
Name: Imirria Val’dannis, sometimes referred to as Miri by those closest to her. Gender: Female Age: 96 Race: Half-elf
Appearance: Imirria stands at 5’8”, a height that leaves her shorter than any elven women she encounters, and often taller than most human women. She is fair of complexion, with light olive skin and high cheekbones given to her by her elven mother. The loose curls that fall just past her shoulders, the precise color of black ink, and the dark blue eyes framed by heavy lashes however, those come from her father. The more than slightly pointed ears are the most telltale sign of her parentage. Imirria has a lean build, and prefers to wear practical, human clothing in darker neutral colors. She is most often seen in close-fitting trousers, knee-high, sturdy boots, a simple shirt and laced leather jerkin covered by a short, hooded cloak. Her untamable curls are usually tied back, though left down her hair can be quite useful in covering her pointed ears. She has several small scars on her hands, and one longer scar on her left forearm.
History: Elanna Val’dannis was a healer of the Val’dannis clan, one of the many groups of elves residing within the Black Forest. Elanna however, in the opinions of her clan members, had far too much interest in the humans that lived beyond the forest’s edge. When a careless dalliance left her with child, the clan could no longer be tolerant of her indiscretions and she was effectively shunned, an outsider in her own community. She never looked for the human man again, fearful and shamed by the clan elders. Imirria, the child in question, therefore grew up without a father, on the edges of the elven community with her mother and elven half-brother, whose own father had passed away long ago. Imirria spent her early years under the scornful gazes of the adults and relentless teasing by the other children, who addressed her with insults and pulled on her unusual hair. While not expelled from the clan, it was made clear that Imirria neither belonged nor was wanted. Her brother, Corym, was a warrior and hunter of the clan, and protected his sister whenever he could, teaching her the basics of self-defense, but when a particularly cruel incident left Miri bloody and bruised, Elanna decided to take her family and leave.
The three traveled south, beyond Brackenhorst, which reminded Elanna too much of Miri’s father, and into the crowded city of Brillon, filled with humans as well as a handful of other races. They had little, but Imirria’s mother was able to find them a suitable if overly small and decrepit place to stay while she supported them as an herbalist and healer. Miri spent most of her time on the streets and would likely have turned to stealing had her brother not fiercely ensured she did not get into any petty crime. Corym had found work as a mercenary in the city, and spent his free moments teaching Miri how to use the twin blades he had gifted her with shortly after their resettlement. The slightly curved blades were finely crafted from strong bone, and engraved with elvish carvings. The lessons took place in secret, and served as the only part of her mother’s culture she kept. Elanna, furious at her clan’s treatment of her family, shunned elven culture and encouraged Miri to do the same, going so far as to set up lessons in Common speech, reading, and writing from one of their few educated neighbors, in exchange for Miri’s help around her bakery.
Life in Brillon was not easy, but it was not all bad. Imirria had quickly become accustomed to the city life and culture, and mostly enjoyed the fast pace, despite often having trouble fitting in in the predominantly human city. Imirria experienced all kinds of occupations, taking any jobs that came her way to help support her family in all manner of shops, marketplaces, and inns. Much to the displeasure of her mother and Corym, Miri eventually found herself working as a catchpole, someone contracted to find and bring in debtors, as well as a mercenary, often doing guard work. She had a natural agility and cunning that, combined with the lessons her brother now regretted giving her, made the work come easily to her. She was considering accepting a job as a merchant’s caravan guard, a chance to get out of Brillon and see more of the world, when things suddenly took a turn for the worse.
Miri’s mother fell ill, an illness that none could recognize and that only seemed to grow ever worse. An infrequent cough turned into weakness and fever. The herbalist's shop was closed when Elanna became too ill to move around. Miri and Corym scoured the city for an answer, finding none. Desperate, the siblings decided to take their mother back to the Dark Forest and put themselves at the mercy of the Val’dannis clan, despite their mother’s weak protests. With Elanna’s worsening condition, travel was long and difficult, but eventually the three were able to make it back under the shaded canopies that now seemed so foreign to Miri. Finding the clan was an ordeal in itself, and once found they had to convince the elders to allow them back into the clan, a feat that proved nearly impossible and cost the brother and sister more than a small amount of dignity as well. Living once again among the forest clan was a tense, uncomfortable situation, but the news that it might be possible to treat Elanna’s illness was the only incentive they needed to stay, serving as clan hunters. Miri had only a few, vague memories of her early childhood in the clan, and after having left at such a young age had grown up almost entirely in a human environment. She was even further alienated due to her complete unfamiliarity with the culture and practices, and often took to venturing into the human villages to get away. Despite the difficulty however, Imirria could not and did not regret her choice to return.
Personality: Due to her childhood, Imirria is extremely independent and often keeps to herself. She has always had a complex about her half-elf status, being too human for the elves and too elven for the humans, and thus has trouble fitting in. Regardless, she identifies much more clearly with humans than elves, as she spent most of her formative years among humans. She is rather reserved with her feelings, and has become quite good at hiding her thoughts, though it becomes difficult when her emotions become too strong. Miri has a quick, hot temper, and is no stranger to holding grudges. Her humor tends to find expression in dry sarcasm, and while at times very serious, she has a quick wit and smart mouth that have gotten her into trouble more than once. Miri is quite curious and observant; she has a very adventurous nature.
Skills: Imirria is quite agile and stronger than she looks. She is skilled in the use of twin blades, and proficient with daggers as well. She is quite good at reading people, and skilled in detecting lies and finding those who wish to remain hidden. She has some basic knowledge of herbalism passed down from her mother, and is fluent in both Common and Elvish. In addition, she is modestly skilled at playing the flute.
Possessions: Miri has a set of light leather armor, well worn, but of decent quality. She carries the elven twin blades given to her by her brother as well as a couple daggers of varying sizes. Imirria always wears a small rose quartz pendant on a silver chain that her mother gave her. She usually carries a small wooden flute in her pack, and can be convinced to play a tune or two without too much difficulty.
Relationships: Thaddeus: Thaddeus had impressed Miri from their first meeting. She is quite curious about his past adventures, he seems to have seen much more of the world than she has. She usually tries and occasionally fails to restrain herself from asking many questions, as he has not been very responsive to those she has voiced. It both frustrates and intrigues her further, and Imirria hopes that careful observation or a well-planned question might lead to more information. Imirria herself is rather reserved about personal information, but can’t help but be curious. She was more than slightly surprised when he first proposed she join his little group, but finds herself quite comfortable at his side, as she finds him to be someone she could just as easily share a joke with as she could work with in comfortable silence.
Tina So’Viari: Immirria was at first surprised by the slight young woman who had so quickly taken to chatting with her and addressing her by her nickname, something a few of the others have begun to pick up already, but her initial surprise at Tina’s forward nature and energy led her to take a liking to the thief-turned farmer. Having lived most of her life in the poorer quarters of a crowded human city, Miri has had thieves as acquaintances, neighbors, and friends for most of her life, and was not shocked to see the missing finger and branded neck. Though they have not spoken much as of yet, Miri finds Tina to be very interesting and has enjoyed talking to her. She cannot quite understand Tina’s decision to become a farmer however, and this only makes the woman more curious to her.
Warwick Blackbriar: Imirria does not quite know what to make of Warwick. He looks to be a strong, thoughtful sort, and seems friendly enough, but the two had not had much opportunity to speak. Miri was intrigued to see him riding around on his bison steed, but cannot see what the two of them might have in common as far as conversation goes. She does sympathise with his quest to cure his father’s illness and find his brother, however, and she greatly respects such a quest. Miri has known a similar situation with her mother’s illness, after all, though Warwick’s situation seems in some ways even more dire, as he has yet to find the cure he seeks or his missing brother.
Peren Di-Jaga: Imirria was at first wary of Peren, being more than used to the condescension of well-born city elves, and he certainly seems at times to be rather haughty and stuck-up. He does seem. however, to be a thoughtful individual, and seems to care for the well-being of others, something Miri can respect having grown up as a healer’s daughter. He is charismatic in conversation and Miri does find him rather intriguing, though she can’t help but become irritated when he becomes too philosophical.
Gryffyth Wolfsblood: Imirria cannot help but be tense around Gryffyth. Though he has done her no wrong personally, Miri has grown up with anger and a slight resentment for the elves of the forests that had mistreated her as a child. She has not made many attempts to speak with him, and has admittedly been somewhat rude when he began to pry into subjects she prefers not to discuss, such as her past and mixed heritage. There is somewhat of an understanding between the two however, as they have both been shunned by the clans of the forest, though this does not erase the tension between them.
James Morter: Miri feels a constant sense of exasperation around the older man. She meets his frequent exaggeration and boisterous outbursts by rolling her eyes and generally trying to keep the sarcastic comments at bay, though every once in a while she can be seen muttering something under her breath. He doesn’t seem to be a bad sort once she is able to make it past or simply ignore his temperament, and she can’t help but respect his skill as a tactician.
Appearance: Warwick is a man of strong physical stature brought about from a life of hard labour on the plains, and his fair complexion is tanned from a life largely spent out of doors. Standing at 5’09”, he is not remarkable in height, and he is slightly underweight due to a hard winter with lean provisions. His blue eyes look sunken and tired, but with a glint of curiosity and friendliness to be found as he takes in the world, and his sandy hair is kept shaved along the sides of his skull and kept in a long braid that falls between his shoulder blades. His body has numerous scars, mostly along his arms, largely from injuries sustained while working with the bison herds or spear fishing on the river. His face is considered comely, although it is dominated by a hooked nose that had clearly been broken and set some time ago, and a shortly trimmed beard that does not grow along a long scar along his right cheek.
History: A member of the Blackbriar family, Warwick was born in the plains and outside of the towns and villages that dot the landscape, and the only life he’s known has been tending to the family’s herd of bison for generations. As a boy, he quickly learned the family trade as a ranch hand and his earliest memories include helping birth and rear. The second oldest of 7 children, Warwick has long since been groomed to take responsibility for the family’s livelihood in case anything happens to the patriarch of the family, his father Dorian. Having built his own home, a simple stone and mud brick dwelling with a thatch roof, Warwick has been sustaining himself for years on his own while travelling the short distance to the family holdings to help with the herds daily. His mother, Maria, wishes for him to be married and to start a family within the year, and the regional gathering of the Summer Feast is where she aims to arrange his marriage.
Normally among Warwick’s people, marriage is arranged when one turns 16, but the past 6 years have been impossible to leave the responsibility of the homestead behind for the biannual gathering. Between predators, disease, and raiders, none of the Blackbriar clan felt it safe to leave for the weeks required to journey to the town of Ralay, where dozens of regional families converge. The past two years in particular have felt even more desperate, with the bison acting more and more skittish about something unknown and refusing to cross the river to the North, where ample grazing lands lay against the border of the Northern Forest, an omen somehow even more unsettling than the increase in centaur raids upon the homestead in recent memory.
As the family prepares furs and meats from the harvested bison for the Summer Feast, Thon, the eldest Blackbriar son, has gone missing and Dorian has fallen ill to an unknown fever. Fearing for their lives, Warwick grabbed his steed, Starla, and rode to Brackenhorst, both in search of a healer who could save his father and for leads of where his brother could have gone. Deep down, Warwick feels that the growing dread from the North Forest may hold the answers.
Personality: A warm soul with a strong work ethic, Warwick knows hardship all too well and cherishes the simple things in life. Not a city person by any means, Warwick feels lost and uncomfortable in crowds, and he finds the somewhat oblivious nature of townsfolk to the wilderness somewhat baffling. He’s a fierce fighter and is not afraid to put himself in harm’s way to protect loved ones and those under his watch, which is an explosive contrast to his more contemplative nature.
Skills: A skilled hunter and fighter with both spear and war club, Warwick has spent most of his life fending off predatory wildlife, his fellow men, and centaurs alike with great success. A spear fisherman, he is a strong swimmer and has incredible precision and reflexes with his weapon, as well as a high degree of patience and concentration compared to many other people. Warwick is very attuned to animals, and he is very adept at tracking as well as being able to judge an animal’s intentions and needs thanks to growing up and caring for a large herd and observing other wildlife. He is a survivor and is very hardy, capable of living off scarce resources and making the most of land that has few trees or stones, and no way of reaching the metals.
Possessions: A six foot hardwood spear with an iron head purchased from traders, a hand carved war club crafted some years before from lumber harvested from felled trees in the North Forest, a bone handled hunting knife, a vest of armour crafted from bones, bison leather clothing (pants, shirt, ankle high boots, fur overcoat), two water skins, a sleeping bag, coin, and his bison steed, Starla.
Miscellaneous: He speaks with a heavy, but easily understood, accent that is very uncommon to hear outside of his region.
Relationships: WIP
Thaddeus: He is a stranger who is shrouded in secrecy, making great claims of knowledge but never sharing what he claims to know, even though he asks us to follow him North, towards an unknowable peril. My partnership with him is entirely based on his willingness to go North, where I may find answers about my brother’s whereabouts. He is a kind man, but I don’t know if that is an act or his true self. Do I have any choice but to trust in this man? Staria seems to like him well enough, which is enough to ease my conscious for now.
Gryffyth Wolfsblood: An elf, I had never thought I would have seen such a thing in all my years. I’ve heard stories, and whenever I ventured close to the North Forest, I always felt as if I were being watched, but it was never a malicious feeling. To see what they look like, it is strange, but I think I could understand them in time. Judging by his garb and belongings, he and his people live off the land, and with it. Maybe we aren’t so different from one another, although his temperament is rather excitable. I’m not sure what trials he’s faced, but they certainly don’t seem like they’ve slowed him down. So far, he’s a fine companion and his confidence is reassuring as we venture into the North. And what a magnificent creature he has tamed! I have fended off wolves before, but I could not imagine they would ever grow so large in the forest, and Staria needs to be reassured when Lwyci draws too close, but I feel Gryffyth has trained the wolf well. I hope one day he will find it in himself to tell us about his lands, his people around the fire. He is a window into a world I’ve only heard in stories.
Tina So’Viari: What a strange woman, it’s clear she’s a child of the towns and not of the country, and she feels like she’s from a world as strange and foreign to me as that of the dwarves. She has an intuition towards people and the streets that I could only dream of, and she’s nimble in both feet and hand. She knows how to read, something I simply never learned, and she always seems to be working something out. She is very charming, I am almost embarrassed to admit to myself, especially since she is well-equipped for breaking into other people’s dwellings. I don’t think I can condone that, but at least she doesn’t seem to be the sort of person who wants to hurt anyone intentionally. She’s been genuinely kind to me, enthusiastic even, and the way she looks at Staria almost seems child-like in her wonder at the whole thing, perhaps I’ll teach her to ride if she is curious. I’m discovering these people don’t see bison very often and prefer horses. And they think me the strange one.
James Morter: By my people’s standards, James has lived a good long life, and he is quite brash and arrogant. There’s something to be said about confidence in one’s self, but I’m wondering how much is that is just blustering. He’s a hard man, I can tell he knows what it means to toil in a field, so I can trust him in so far that he knows what takes to do hard work, and a part of me thinks that maybe a part of him doesn’t feel alive unless he’s on some adventure or another. I’m not sure if I can make it past his temperament, but I feel his heart is in the right place. That will have to do.
Peren Di-Jagal: I didn’t even know elves came in different races, and if it weren’t for his dagger ears, I’d mistake him for a man at a glance. He’s soft, someone used to luxury and prestige, caring mostly for coin and earning it without having to toil for it, or so it would seem. It’s clear he has a conflict of identity, not knowing whether to style himself an elf or a man, and there’s something about him that feels like he’s constantly second guessing himself. I don’t think he’s cut out for this kind of expedition, and I think he’s scared of Staria, which tells me enough about his world compared to my own. He’s polite enough and means well, but I worry for his safety and his willpower. What stakes does he have to risk his life? Did he lose someone, too? The cities raise strange folks, and if it weren’t for Gryffyth, I think I’d feel somewhat disappointed in my first encounter with their kind. He is not at all what I’d expected.
Imirria Val’annis: Her name is quite a mouthful, I’m glad she goes by Miri. Another myth come to life, I never knew of a half-elf, or if such a thing were possible, but here she is. She’s quite comely with fair human features, and if it weren’t for the ears that I occasionally glimpse, I’d have no idea of her elven heritage, and I think she’s had a hard life finding a sense of belonging, she doesn’t seem to fully embrace either her elven or human heritage. Despite her withdrawn personality and untrusting eyes, she’s capable of rather fierce outbursts and seems very hesitant to let anyone see a softer side of her, whether such a thing exists, who can say? She’s quick, and the way she handles those small blades makes me think of her like a viper, quick and deadly. A lesser man might wither under her gaze, but I do not intend to give her reason to loathe me. She’s an ally, she does not need to be a friend. She can handle herself, and that’s good enough for me.
Appearance Tina is a slight woman, wiry and thin, and with a light skin tone and clear complexion. Her eyes are soft, but quick, and her frame is not that of a sickly person- but rather the wiry frame of an athlete. She isn't too tall, rising up to the height of 5'04", and is a sprightly gal weighing just over 110 LBS.
Her hair is black, and cut short as if by a knife in private rather than any actual care or styling.
Personality "I like to think of myself as a quirky sort- plucky at worst, eccentric at best-- what, it's weird to consider yourself eccentric? Well, I suppose that only furhter cements my eccentricism! Ha!...But uh...yeah- anyway! I'm a nice enough girl, if you ask me, although there are a handful of people down south who'd sing my dirge rather than my praise, if you catch my meaning. It's not my fault I had to break a few locks to make a fortune!..Or was it a few eggs to make an omellete?...I'm always getting my words mixed up, and I do have a tendency to ramble on...so..."
Far to the south, in the land of kings and their wars, is a city called 'Bridgetower'. The city is aptly named for it is a trade city that originated as a town thriving around a bridge spanning a great violent river. A very great river, indeed. The bridge was ancient, and none could remember its origins. Some claimed it was build by wizards to make travel easier, others say it was simply ingenious work by ancestor men...Either way, this bridge was vital for the area's trade, as otherwise trade moving inland from the coast would have to travel through the treacherous mountains to the east and circumvent the river altogether.
Then there was the Tower- another object of mystery and study, that was quickly appropriated as the local King's summer home. The tower existed as long as the bridge had, many claimed.
For these two simple objects, the town was known as Bridgetower.
And for these two simple reasons- the bridge providing a path for trade, and the king making the Tower his summer home- Bridgetower turned into an absolutely massive city of trade in what seemed like a few years following its inception. And with the trade, people, guards, order, and kings came Thieves. A city of gold can't exist without a network of people who seek to take the gold away from the city, after all.
Amongst this network of thieves was an organization known as 'The Forty Thieves', a closely knit alliance of fixers, forgers, thieves, and bitter merchants who never quite made it to lord status.
They were opportunists, and none amongst them were more renown than the Mouse.
The legends of The Mouse extend far and wide in the southern kingdoms, and many pretenders have claimed the name. Amongst the Forty Thieves, there was a common phrase all would say at one point or another in their time; 'I am a Mouse, ser, nothing more'. Of course, all who claimed to be The Mouse were executed or carted far away and never heard from again, but the effect was paramount- The king and his guardsmen were sent on goose chases, scattered and wild, in search of the Illusive Mouse.
All because of one woman who bore the name first; Tina So'Viari.
It was night, and the girl was incredibly anxious. She was standing on a high peaked roof, and her eyes, with all the infinite places they could be looking, found themselves staring down at the ground. She sucked in a deep breath, took a careful step back. Then another. Then another. Then another.
She opened her eyes- or, rather, realized she had them closed for the first time, then opened them. She pulled the dark hood she wore about her head. The tunnel the fabric created in her vision was almost calming, it helped steele her nerves and made her focus on her objective.
"You've done this a-hundred times by now, come on. Practice makes perfect. Come on. Come on. Come on..." She repeated this to herself a half dozen more times, then set out at a sprint across the roof- and leapt into the open air.
For what felt like eternity she hung in the air, her path clearly marked in her head, and she realized she fucked up. She saw herself sailing forward, much too fast, much too high- she under-measured the distance!
She twisted her body, kicked her legs up, extended her arms out-
and slammed into the stone wall with an 'oomph' sound...but she had deadened the impact with her limbs, and had slowed her descent enough for her to drop down and finally grasp her target without further harm; a windowsill, high up in the air to let the cool night breeze in. She clung to it for dear life, then steadily pulled herself up. Inch by inch. Until she could get her shoulders in through the window. Once she had gotten herself this far, silently coiling her body through was easy enough. She sighed to herself as she rolled to her feet and breathed out.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?" A voice rang through her ears. "A thief, are ya?"
A light turned on in the room- Bad! Bad! Light is bad! The girl turned her head away fiercely and relied on her ears. Heavy footsteps, slurred speech, limbering gait- the man was drunk, heavy set. Large. Tina panicked, backed away from him. He moved faster.
"Tell me who you are-- oi, can you 'ere me?" The man reached for the girl's hood- but she was quick, faster than he could react in his inebriated state. He lurched forward, but the girl was already rolling past him, and springing to her feet. She delivered a solid kick to the large man's rear end and nearly had a heart attack due to the catastrophe that occurred- he lurched forward and toppled halfway out the window she herself had climbed through!
Letting out a squeak of panic the girl ran forward and, grabbing at the man's shirt and trousers, struggled to help the flailing drunkard back through the window.
Which, furthering the girl's impending sense of catastrophe, inevitably resulted in the man collapsing back atop her. Well, that would have been bad enough in itself, beside the fact his screaming and flailing had broken any sense of cover the girl had possessed. To top it off, she couldn't move the bastard's body off of herself, and the man chortled with laugher as he pinned her down.
"What ar' you? Some dormouse who decided 'e could try and rob me and me mates while we threw this big party? Ha! Who 'ent you? Was it Hodi? It had to be Hodi! Bastard thinks I owe him money! Ha!"
The man picked up the girl, flailing as she might, and carried her off.
--
The Girl ended up arrested, of course. She was an amateur, and at the time was working solo. She had simply heard that this party was being thrown in passing and had worked up the courage to try and break into the place the very same day. She ended up branded as a thief as per Bridgetower law, the thief's mark- a very distinct thorned 'x'- was branded upon the back of the girl's neck, and to top it off she was beaten by the guards quite severely- and her trial was then concluded with the age-old garnish for thieves who got caught; removal of the left hand ring finger.
Now, no matter where the girl went or what she did, all would know her as a thief.
As it is easy to understand, the girl's life, from that moment on, was guided onto the singular path of a thief and rogue. Just as easy to understand is the drive that build the girl up from that day on- the simmering fire of 'revenge' and 'retribution' that sat in her gut at the nobility's lack of understanding for a common girl's plight.
They had never even asked her 'why' she was doing it, simply saw the act and punished her mechanically.
There was no compassion in nobility, and certainly no companionship in coin.
The circumstances behind the rise of the Mouse are a mystery many claim to know, but the truth of the matter is that only the original Forty Thieves know the truth, and that it is simple, just like the ruse of The Mouse is in itself...
Guy So'Viari was a fledgeling merchant and business man, who owned and operated a fledgeling merchant's guild. He was fighting the already established Commerce Guild as well as the King's Trade just to try and eke out a meager existence for his family. Guy So'Viari had no wife and no children, but he had a sister and a niece he loved dearly; Virdiana So'Viari and Tina So'Viari.
Guy was a businessman who had earned his reputation for good honest deals by dealing with the common folk and, well, giving them good, honest, deals! The margin for profit was almost nonexistent, but as long as business came to him he could stay afloat and keep his other guild members in business. They weren't out to dominate the market, but they wanted there to be competition- for if Guy's Guild did not operate, then the people of Bridgetower would be under a monopoly of expensive goods [The Commerce Guild] or shoddy goods [The King's Trade runoff of trade].
Guy wouldn't stand for the strangulation of the poor, and thus fought and clawed his way up to the merchant class through honesty and determination. He could feed his family, he could establish connection in other cities. He could stand on his own two feet and meet people's eyes without shame.
But how he found himself today on the gallows with a noose about his neck he'll never fully understand. He had cut a deal with the Commerce Guild, a symbiotic trade agreement for bulk bargaining for imports. He thought it wise, as it would save himself as well as the people he considered friendly competition money, which would inevitably get funneled back into the community.
He never doubted for one second the honesty and reputation of his competitors, nor did he every once imagine their greed and power.
Not until he was slapped in chains, and a document, in his script, was placed down before him. This document was incredibly incriminating, you see, and it did naught but place his guild in ruin after its publication.
The document was thus;
'Dear Sers of the Commerce Guild,
I am a humble merchant, Guy So'Viari. Our dealings in the past have been both mutual and beneficial, however profits for my guild have never been high. I am well aware you see my business as a parasite- one that undercuts and leeches off your own- and I am writing this missive as a precaution. There are many who see you as tyrants, dominators of trade, and it is without doubt that my own business is a paragon of the people. Perhaps you, and yours, should begin to treat my business with more respect and agree to more marketable terms? It would truly be a shame if the people grew angered with your high prices and pompousness, and I would hate to see your stores burn for ignorance. In the interest of mutual economical stability, and for the safety of your people, I have warned you of this possibility. The people could, at any day, see you as having grown too fat in your high chairs- too distant from the common man! You act as noble, when you are naught but a commoner with gold in his pocket, and that angers the poor folk of Bridgetower...'
Guy couldn't finish reading the entire missive. It was written in his hand, that was without doubt, but he had never penned the incriminating document! He knew this, but could not argue it, for many documents bearing his script were compared to the slanderous letter, and all agreed it was written by his hand!
This letter damned Guy, as it was a very poorly veiled threat to the Commerce Guild, and the King did not tolerate underhanded business and corruption this openly in his city. The risk of a peasant revolt was far too high and real from such a letter, and if Guy, as the letter said, was seen as a paragon of these people...
Then he must be removed from the equation. That is simply how it must be. There would be no revolts in Bridgetower, there would be no burning of the city, and there would definitely be no more threat from Guy So'Viari- because even if he had not written the letter himself, the threats and words within it were true enough.
The people, especially after the publication, saw Guy as a martyr.
That is, until his execution.
His family was standing front and center to witness the event, escorted by armed guards.
When he hanged, his sister wept and his niece watched as her only escape from poverty died.
The people of Bridgetower lost all fervor and returned to their mundane lives...
---
Tina, as she witnessed the death of her uncle, also witnessed the death of her livelihood. Her mother was sickly, couldn't work, and had to stay home.
As Guy's death hit the guild, the guild tried to scramble and stay alive...but the new guildmaster soon sold out and sold the guild to the Commerce Guild and integrated into it, only further cementing their hold on Bridgetower's trade.
The city thrived, but the poor stayed poor.
And got poorer still.
Tina soon found herself going out into the streets at night to try and find some way to keep her mom in a bed, to keep a roof over her mom's head, some way to find money where her uncle used to be.
And when her mom died, Tina found herself alone, with nobody to take care of her but herself, and so she became a petty thief at a young age.
This tragic tale is indeed that; tragic! However it is not unique! In Bridgetower many youths found themselves on differing sides of this divide; either peasant or rich. The peasant children then found themselves separated into the usual divisions peasants found themselves into; those who would grow to be farmers, those who would grow to be soldiers, those who wouldn't grow, and those who became scum and thieves.
Tina, for a while, looked like she would be one of those children who didn't grew- those who died young in an alleyway of a large city and were quickly forgotten.
But she did not, she found she had a natural penchant for climbing and leaping, and used this as her way into the life of a thief.
At this youthful state in her life, she became introduced to the life of stealing and hiding, and in the end it became the life she kept.
Her later successes and story are mired in fable and legend, both of The Mouse and of the Forty Thieves themselves.
Many claim she was the proprietor of the 'Great Commerce Guild Scandal', wherein the Commerce Guild has a massive shipment of gold rerouted and scattered within the city's underground network all because of one forged document.
Many claim that Mouse, as well as The Forty Thieves, were the ones who stole the king's crown and returned it to him a week later- or, at least, a very finely made replica of it.
Others, still, will say that the Forty Thieves and the Mouse were even hired by the king to steal from the surrounding cities great and ancient tomes of magical referendum to house in his tower.
But nothing is certain, as the Forty Thieves are almost a myth these days. The Mouse is a legend that children whisper when they play games- 'I am the Mouse, and you're the nasty guardmen! I'll hide and you find me!', etc.- And whatever happened to the real mouse is a mystery...
The mouse had gotten ludicrously rich with the help of the Forty Thieves, and to be perfectly honest it was mostly their doing. She did a good deal of the leg work and actual thievery herself, but they handled the planning and masterminding of the whole deal.
But eventually The Mouse wanted out of it, and they cut a deal; The Mouse would pull one last job, and then she would go into hiding and pass the name on. The legend of the Mouse had to stay alive, even if the Mouse herself had left Bridgetower altogether, after all.
And so the deed was done, and the Mouse was made a name of infamy as it was attached to a crime of legend; The Commerce Guild's signet ring, the one he used to seal letters, was stolen from his very hand by The Mouse.
In the span of a week, the forty thieves brought the Commerce Guild to its knees through forged and sealed missives. Bridgetower was in chaos, and the forthy thieves split- and the Mouse left her fortune in their hands.
She wanted simple in her life, she wanted calm.
So she headed north, away from the chaos of Bridgetower, and became a pilgrim of sorts. She wandered, helped people where she could, and tried to see as much of the world as she could.
In the end, she settled down in a [relatively] peaceful realm. Brackenhorst was calm and quiet, save the centaur attacks, and for a few years now Tina has lived there in a quiet home, living as reasonably well-to-do farmer. She has avoided excitement for so long, but the itch for adventure is building up...
Skills As a thief from the southern kingdoms, Tina is one of many talents- she did thrive after all!
"I dare say there isn't a wall I can't climb given a bit of elbow room and time, and don't even get me started on how anxious I used to get trying to make these disasterous leaps across the rooftops back home- now I'm so used to it that heights don't even make me nervous anymore."
Thief-Acrobat - Tina is a sprightly girl with ample spring in her step. Scaling walls, leaping between rooftops- or across chasms!-, and the fluid movement through an area through the use of said environment, are all skills the woman has mastered. Falling safely is also within this, as well.
"On the less fantastic side of things, I was a thief you know- I can handle locks if given enough time, but I admit my M.O. was finding an open window rather than getting through a door...but uh...I can move pretty damn quiet, I've never woken someone up I meant to get past, and I'm damn fast with my hands...Never gotten caught checking a guy's pockets, that I haven't!...Though I probably shouldn't brag about these things nowadays, right?"
Thief-Burglar - Tina is quick with her hands, light in her step, and perceptive to boot. She can shake a man's hand and have his rings off without him noticing. She can walk briskly through a room and not make a sound. She can disappear into a crowd, or if need be, into a shadow [or, rather, hide in a shadow- it's not really possible for a person to 'disappear', you see, just hide really well!]. That being said, she isn't the greatest person in the world when it comes to locks, but she can get most open with a bit of time. Her style really is fast and quiet.
"Have I ever gotten into a fight? Yeah, a few scrapes here and there, but for the most part I avoided them. I mostly got into these big upscale brawls in taverns. Guards bust in, ruin the mood, pisses off the wrong drunk- oh, it's pretty damn glorious to have your cover maintained by a drunk who don't know any better, and you get to give a few good kicks and punches to the right people in the process! Ha!...But I don't usually get into fights no, and if I do I prefer 'running' to, uh, 'dying'. Duh."
Thief-Brawler - Tina is not a fighter by nature or even by trade, but she has picked up a few tricks in pugilistic arts just by proxy of the incidents of her trade. She can throw a solid punch, and a solid kick, but she's far from skilled and masterful. She really is just a brawler at best, and she prefers to run rather than fight.
"Whaddya mean? Of course I can read and write! Hell, I could write for you and nobody could tell the difference! I could sign the king's signature if I had a copy of it- which I don't, mind you, but I know a guy who could get it for the right price...Or, at least, a guy who brags he could...But uh, I digress. That's beside the point. I'm not daft, I'm a learned girl myself!
Thief-Forger - Tina is quite literate, and has spent a lot of time studying how people write. Signatures are powerful things in the lands of lords and ladies, kings and merchant guilds. Any signature or writing sample she could get her eyes on from a mark she would study, and plan with. She can take a scrap of writing from a lordling and turn it into a full-blown confession to a crime in a matter of hours...
"Nowadays I spend my days tending a small field and trying to grow a small crop. Trying. Centaurs are damned impossible to deal with for a girl like me. What am I gonna do, kick a centaur? They've got two more appendages than I do, I think they win with that math. But I have to say, I've picked up a few things from working the earth...And, well, I can see why some people favor being merchants to farmers...but it's simple, and it keeps me happy...for the most part..."
Farmer and Land Owner - Tina, in her recent years, has lived as a farmer- far from her old life. She understands the basics of tilling and caring for land, and now possesses a deeper understanding of the common man's plight. She also has garnered a hatred for Centaurs, but that's beside the point. There aren't too many glossy skills to cover within this, but it was still worthy of categorization.
..."I think you get the idea of what kind of gal I am. Anything else I can do is pretty basic. I'm no alchemist, no assassin, no fighter. I'm a thief at heart.
Possessions Tina's possessions are Spartan and few, as she has lived as a farmer and land holder for several years now. She owns a few chickens [which she's constantly replacing. See; hatred of Centaurs] and tools to work the earth, as well as a few outfits of sturdy clothing.
However, hidden within her home is a chest of far too expensive and effective make for a farmer of her position to have purchased, and it is far too sturdily built and heavy for one to reasonably steal or break it. Within this is her thievery tools and adventuring gear, which she has held onto in the inevitability of her adventuring itch returning.
Miscellaneous [reiteration] Missing her left hand's ring finger [Thievery punishment]
Bears a brand on the base of her neck [Additional Bridgetower thievery punishment]
Relationships
Imirria Val’dannis "Miri's a bit of a shy sort in my book, but you can't really judge someone like that. I mean, I call her Miri to make it easy on myself, but I don't really know her too well so I'm probably a bit more friendly than I should be. All in all, I don't disagree or conflict with her at all, but I look forward to getting to know the gal- quiet types always intrigue me, you know. I had far too many in my old profession."
Warwick Blackbriar "This guy's one pretty cool bastard! I mean, I tried to integrate into the whole farm life thing, but this guy legitimately has that whole 'the land is my life' thing going on. He looks like a tough guy, and I'm sure as hell glad he's on my team. Oh. And the bison. Who the hell rides bison? This guy. That's who."
Peren Di-Jaga "I get the feeling he doesn't like me. I mean, I know he's with a merchant guild...and I know he sees the brand...and I can't really hide the missing finger...so it's only natural he's apprehensive of me. How do I see him? Oh, well...he seems a decent enough sort, certainly a damn bit better than the old merchants of Bridgetower."
James Morter "He's an older guy, what can I say? I find him amusing enough, but I don't know what to really say about him. I think I'd like to poke at him just to see how grumpy he could be, and butting heads with someone can be fun from time to time, if it's the right kind of guy, you know?"
Gryffyth Wolfsblood "This guy's a lot like some of my old friends amongst the Forty Thieves. Excitable, full of energy, and the guy definitely seems to have this force of will behind him. I can definitely see us being chummy, though he has a bit of a blabber on 'im, so that might make me a bit wary at first. Not that I plan on doing anything secret anymore, you know."
Thaddeus, the Watchful Man "I think Thaddeus and I will get along fine. I don't pry, he doesn't offer much. He doesn't pry, I don't offer much. He's got a dedicated sort of air about him, and I respect that. The job comes first. I've used that mantra for years, lost a few friends because of it, but I respect the guy. He let me tag along when all I seemed to be was just some farm girl, which in my opinion took some crazy guts, but I don't plan on letting the guy down."
------
Recent Updates // In Roleplay Events Once Tina was accepted to go on the adventure with Thaddeus, she unlocked her old chest and donned her adventuring gear once more.
The girl wears a well worn set of soft, dark, clothing. It is form fitting, yet gender disguising. If people didn't know the girl, it'd be difficult for her gender to be assessed due to her shorn hair and athletic build. Her features are a bit softer than a vast majority of males, but the slight androgynous quality is still present.
Accompanying these soft clothes is a light cloak with a hood, which the girl wears down while travelling with the group. Upon her hips sits a belt, wrapping about her waist, where a grappling hook and her climbing hooks rest. she carries no weapons, but her hands are calloused from constant use and hardened by her years of farm work. She has stayed fit, that cannot be denied.
Hidden within her boots are her thieves tools- lockpicks and similar assorted tools, along with a small knife in a left boot-sheathe. It is not a combative tool, but a cutting instrument of survivalist intent- a thick blade with weight, and a serrated edge for cutting along the back.
She carries a small travelling bag with her, rather than a backpack, and carries within it her bare necessities.
Appearance: In an attempt to fit in with the large human populations he is used to dealing with on a daily basis, he attempts to hide his more obvious Elvish features, with varying degrees of success. He crops his hair close to the scalp, wears simple human clothing and even has made an attempt at a scraggly blonde beard, that clutches to his chin and neck in clumps. However, he cannot hide his more obvious features - his ears are pointed, his complexion is oily and he has lived far longer than any man. Peren is by no means in good physical shape but he still holds the universal slim, tall look elves are famed for. Contrary to the local Elves of the Wood, Peren is a Southern Elf and possesses minute differences that set him apart from elves of other sub-races. Most humans do not notice that his eyes are flecked with yellow or that his cheekbones are lower, for example.
History: Peren Di-Jaga hails from the famed Elvish trading city, Jaga. Deep within the southern lands, Jaga is unusual for being a maritime Elvish exclave, surrounded on all sides by human cities and itself having a sizable human minority. Peren was the only son of a well-off merchant and his wife. Much of his youth was spent making trips to the far north with his father, who is a prominent member of the Jagan Guild of Merchants. Due to his fathers wealth and powerful position in the guild, he was eventually enrolled by a private human tutor, who had a profound effect on the young Elves life. Peren had never shown much interest in humanity prior to meeting his tutor but as the years slipped by, he became fascinated with human culture and philosophy. His tutor, a man fresh from a prestigious human university, had an eccentric and unique manner of teaching that only fed Perens obsession with humanity. Perens tutor, whether intentionally or not, implanted several false ideas into his mind pertaining to the nature of men and Elves. The young elf came to the conclusion that humans were "noble savages", only corrupted by the greed of Elves. "Elves are greedy and pretentious, wasting their long lives on furthering their own interests, while humans, whose reputation is being tarnished by these High Elves, better spend their short lives, dying for a greater good and in the belief that in their death they will assist even one fellow soul..."
Peren's father was not impressed by his sons interest in humanity, holding the traditional Elvish view that humans were cocky and uncultured. This led to a rocky relationship between Peren and his father, who eventually used his contacts within Jaga to oust his now-elderly tutor from the city. Peren was devastated at the fate of his old friend and it only deepened the rift between father and son. When he reached his 50th year, Perens father decided to enroll him in a prestigious university, hoping to properly educate him in the ancient ways of Elves. Peren, however, showed no interest in furthering his education, especially among Elves and instead left his family and High Elvish culture to live among humans.
In those days, Peren was young and naive and now regrets the way in which he and his father ended their relationship. For the next seventy years he wandered across the Southern Lands. At first, it was great - he settled in small hamlets, worked for human lords and befriended locals. Watching his human friends grow old and die, however, only confused him and caused heartache, which is not common among Elves of his status. As he grew older, he grew frustrated with the ignorance and contentedness of human peasants, who were happy to toil their days away in fields, get drunk in evenings and die without achieving anything. Women he loved and men he hated all grew old and died while he continued living. What was the point in their short lives, other than to procreate?
One event changed his opinion of humans dramatically, however. He was invited to a party for the nobility, where the proud, rich humans partook in hedonistic drinking and sex. Conversations with these people mostly concerned their own suspicions of other races ("OH, not you, young Southron! Of course, we mean those dirty Elves of the Forest!") and their disdain for those they deemed poorer or richer than themselves. After that night, Peren came to the conclusion that both humans and elves were little better than animals. They were suspicious of those different to themselves and disliked even those of their own race. They pissed away their lives selfishly, living to further their own gains. From that moment on, Peren no longer identified as elf or human. He was now just a sentient animal.
Disappointed that 120 years of his life had led him to that conclusion, he returned to Jaga with a cloud of melancholy hanging over his head. What was the point in living to eventually die? Why were wars fought over patches of land? Why did man and Elf quarrel and feel a hatred of each other when they were just two of the same animal? What was the point of learning anything if it was all to be lost at your own death? Peren spent the next few years in a drunken haze of depression, prostitutes and fights. It was only when one of these fights led to the death of man did Peren wake from this melancholy and decide to return to society.
He wrote to his father in Elvish, apologising for the decades of silence and begging his forgiveness. His father did not accept his apology and refused to meet him but took pity on his only son and got him a job in the Guild of Merchants. Peren was grateful and decided to set a new life goal. He was not a sentient animal anymore. He was a sentient being and he would make it his life purpose to improve the lives of other sentient beings, in any way possible. Despite this, the elf is cynical beyond his years and some have mused that he is an old human trapped in the body of young Elf.
Peren is well established in the powerful Guild of Merchants but has no time for the pointless bureaucracy and intrigue of the central Grand Bazaar. Instead, he set himself up in a town in Brackenhorst, deep within the realm of men and far from the influence of the Guild. He lives with his human wife and half-elf son above their shop and has done his best to fix fair prices for the humans. It would almost seem like a fairytale ending - surely, this is Perens happily ever after?
Sadly, no. The rumbles of violent clashes with orcs have deeply disturbed Peren, himself something of a pacifist, and stirred something he hasn't felt inside of him for a while. As his wife edges closer to the grave and his son closer to a man, Peren is beginning to feel a restlessness deep inside him that he hasn't felt in decades. There are still questions on the nature of man and elf to be answered and this inquisitive Elf is yearning to answer them. With the backing of the Guild of Merchants and his local community, he set out to join Thaddeus and help in anyway he can.
Personality: Peren is privately rather cynical and pessimistic but tries to display an aura of confidence and optimism. He is a natural speaker and can start a conversation with almost anyone. He finds he has more in common with Elves and Humans than other races. Due to the years spent wandering the lands, experiencing new things and meeting new people, he has wisdom beyond his years and can easily spot if a situation is not going in his favour. He is something of a pacifist, preferring to talk his way out of fights but if required to, will defend himself to protect his own life. He will always stop short of killing another (sentient) being and has something of a weak stomach when it comes to extreme violence. Despite being extremely philosophical in his youth, Peren has come to realise some of the decisions made in his past were immature and he has learned his lesson - no being is perfect but he can try his very to improve those lives around him. He may not always stay true to this philosophy but he tries to his best.
Peren can be, unknowingly, quite haughty and stuck-up around other Elves but upon being pulled on the fact, he will always attempt to apologise. He tries not to distinguish between different races but old Elvish habits die hard. Despite his faults, Peren always tries to better himself and change his way of thinking. An unrealistic attempt at Uberelvsch, maybe but an Elf can dream.
Skills: Peren has spent his life empathizing with humanity and has developed great skills of communication with both men and elves. His down-to-Earth personality is appealing to men and his polite, well-spoken dialect of Elvish appeals to many elves. He is completely fluent in Common and Elvish but struggles with other languages, such as Dwarfish or Goblin. His Common comes with a slight accent that, to the untrained ear, can be hard to understand. After spending a portion of his life with his father and the Guild of Merchants, he has picked up several skills in negotiation and bartering and is a popular choice in sorting out petty disputes in his local area. Peren is by no means a skilled swordsman (despite knowing some basic parries) and prefers to talk his way out of problems than to fight.
Possessions: Peren wears simple, yet comfortable, human clothing and no armour. Boots wrap around his knees A well placed sword or arrow could easily end his life but he relies on his status as a Guild Merchant to protect him. This is made apparent by the bronze, Guild chain around his neck, which he wears over his clothing. The Guild chain awards him a lot of respect in certain Human/Elvish circles but those living far from civilisation care little for it (for example, Dwarves, Orcs and certain Wood Elves). He carries with him a thin rapier in a leather scabbard at a belt across his shoulder but the shine on the blade makes it obvious it's rarely used. Peren doesn't carry mementos or trinkets (apart from his official Guild chain), deciding instead to leave them at home. Rations hang around his belt and a small coin purse hangs at his wrist. Apart from this, Peren is woefully unprepared for fighting but more than prepared to talk his way across the Tall Mountain.
Miscellaneous: Di-Jaga is an adopted surname, as High Elves from that part of the world do not take on the names of their ancestors. Peren adopted it for the benefit of his wife and son, Rolen Di-Jaga.
Name: Gryffyth Wolfsblood, "Gryff" for short, called "Outcast" by the Elves Gender:Elf Male Age: An impetuous youth of 87, though this is nearly impossible to tell by anyone who is not an Elf. Race: Elf of the Forest
Appearance: To the eyes of men, one Elf looks much like another, as they each possess an sleek, almost ethereal beauty. Gryff is no different, though his lithe form and crisp, angular features are marred by the scars of life in the wilds. Like most forest-borne Elves, his coloration is warm and earthy, with bronzed skin, hair the color of molten copper and eyes the same brown as rosewood. His long, wiry hair is generally kept tied behind his head, and he usually dresses in simple vestments of woven flax and thick leather. He does not wear shoes, and his clothing leaves much of his sun-kissed skin uncovered. On some occasions, Gryff will paint his skin with dark, green pigments, or don a rough-spun hooded cloak, making him ever more difficult to spot in the underbrush of the Dark Forest.
History: The Elves of the Dark Forest, considered barbarians and pariahs by their civilized, southron kin, live in insular, close-knit societies hidden in the brush and trees. However, they are notoriously distrustful of outsiders, even of Elves that hail from other groves in the forest. Gryffyth Wolfsblood was raised in a particularly raucous grove. When he was very young, a faun that rarely strayed from his mother's side, Men had come trampling into their glen with their axes and flame, and the elder Elves had not taken kindly to it. They swept into the human settlement under the cover of night, and killed their destructive woodsmen in their sleep. However, their message was not well-taken by the humans that remained. The other men took their revenge by setting the forest ablaze, burning down the hidden village in which Gryff and his family lived.
Gryff was one of the few that survived, escaping the blaze by fleeing into the depths of the forest, tightly clutching a bone dagger. For days he traveled alone, and nearly died, until he happened upon another Elvish village. Knowing the ways of his people, and did not beg them to take him in, as he knew none would. Rather, he lived on the outskirts of their village, surviving on their scraps and learning by careful observation. On occasion he would be run off, and would flee to another village to do much the same. In time, Gryff learned to survive on his own, and explored the Dark Forest and the lands beyond. His curiosity was not tempered by the reclusive nature of the Elves, and so he learned much and grew bolder with each passing day. In time, he even took to the villages of Humans nearby, caring little that they had taken his family from him so many years ago.
Personality: Most expect a certain demeanor from Elves; an aloof, haughty condescension, masked beneath layers of subtlety and misdirection. In some ways Gryff meets this description, as his emotions are subtle and difficult to gauge, and his moods can shift suddenly and capriciously. Even so, he is remarkably friendly and polite for one of the Fair Folk, especially towards the races of Men and Dwarves. Resembling to many a rambunctious teenager, he is vigorous and excitable, as well as incredibly curious about the lives and experiences of others. Even so, he carries a certain force of will and confidence unique to Elves; if he knows something another does not, or can perform a task better than they can, one should not expect him to keep quiet about it.
Skills: Having spent his life in the wilds of the Dark Forest, away even from other Elves, Gryff is a survivalist extraordinaire. Easily able to live off of the land, he can identify with ease such plants that can hurt or heal, recognize and track dangerous or helpful beasts, and can pass through the forest below the notice of many. As with most Elves, Gryff is a crack shot with a bow, and his senses are sharper in the wilds than any Man, Dwarf or other such race. Up close, Gryff prefers to fight with a spear, but will resort to a dagger when in restrictive environments. As the one of the few skills he remembers from his parents, Gryff also has some experience in handling and breeding beasts, wolves in particular, and is so comfortable with the animals that it seems as though he speaks their howling tongue.
Possessions: Gryff wears light, hand-made clothes, including a thick cloak, a waterskin and sturdy satchel. His deerskin quiver carries arrows of wood, bone and eagle feathers that he fletched himself, and his bow is carved from yew and strung with the sinew of an elk. His spear is sturdy oak, lacquered with sap and beeswax, and hardened in fire. His dagger, a memento of his parents, has a the fang of some great beast as a blade and a handle of carved bone. Gryff carries a variety of useful herbs and other natural ingredients with him, which can be made into poultices or poisons as he needs them.
Miscellaneous: Gryff's faithful companion is Lwyci, a dire wolf that he had raised since the beast was a cub. The wolf is frightening to behold, standing well above Gryff's waist at its shoulder, with a dark grey pelt and yellow eyes. Having spent much time in the forest together, Gryff and Lwyci are much like brothers, helping one another in their daily lives. Lwyci is a skillful hunter and tracker, and is large enough for the lithe elf to ride on. While distrustful of strangers, Lwyci is utterly loyal to Gryff, and would likely lay down its life to protect him.
Relationships:Thaddeus is a curious and frustrating character from Gyff's perspective. He seems endlessly fascinating, and yet is incredibly tight-lipped about himself and his experience. This is of course torturous to the overly-curious Elf, and results in him pestering the Man many hours of the day. Even so, Thaddeus seems to be endlessly tolerant of the young Elf's inquiries, and treats him with a genial, almost fatherly patience. Determined to prove his worth to potentially form a stronger bond, Gryff frequently offers pointers in woodsmanship and archery to the already seasoned ranger, which Thaddeus seems to take in stride.
Warwick is seen as something of a kindred spirit by Gryff; both hardworking people that take their livelihood from the earth. Perhaps the only member of the party not subject to to Gryff's incessant questioning, the two are able to sit in comfortable silence in each other's company. Gryff and Warwick also share a quiet pride in rearing and riding mighty beasts, even though Starla is thoroughly unsettled by Lwyci's presence.
Tina and Gryff are as thick as thieves, so to speak, and can often be found chatting to each other. She enables his unquenchable curiosity by indulging his inquiries into her skills and past, which in turn stokes her pride in her former accomplishments. Gryff is probably the least mistrustful of Tina out of any person in the party, mostly because he doesn't entirely grasp the concept of a what a thief truly is. This naivety stems from his early upbringing in a completely communal society, followed by his many years of isolation.
James is a mystery to Gryff. The mercenary's conniving ways and dishonest nature are at odds with the Elf's keen perception and curiosity. Gryff has already learned not to bother asking much of James, as he is likely to either be answered with lies or otherwise treated discourteously. Gryff keeps his distance.
Peren is a queer, yet interesting character in Gryff's eyes. His civilized, southron habits (such as his insistence in trying to appear more like a Human) are laughable to the forest Elf, but are still fascinating. Peren seems to have little tolerance for the younger Elf, rarely indulging him when barraged with questions about himself and his life, but the two sometimes bond over sharp quips in Elvish at the expense of the Humans in the party.
Imiriia is yet another strange, but curious character to Gryff. Having never met a halfblood before, he rather tactlessly tries to dig into her heritage and past, which are touchy subjects for the Half-Elf. Usually standoffish to Gryff, she generally meets his inquiries with silence and admonishment. Even so, the two have a subtle understanding, having both lived as outcasts in their forest birthplace.
