Member
Name: Rhiannon
Age: Unknown
Height: 5’0
Weight: 105
Class: Druid
Race: Demonfolk/Dryad
All demonfolk are of some mixed bloodline or another, bound together by the taint that runs through their veins though they may have little in common individually. Perhaps one of the strangest of this varied group are those whose ancestry includes another long lost people. So far as anyone today knows, the only remnants of the dryads of Terraxia exist in their part demon descendants.
Weapons & Equipment:
Ancient Dagger: a short, wicked blade Rhiannon keeps belted to her waist for the sense of security having a weapon provides, despite her lack of any skill to use it.
Blowpipe and Darts: In a small pouch on Rhia's belt, there are a blow pipe and a handful of darts, few in number because of the difficulty of making the non-lethal poison within. The sleeping draft wouldn't stop a charging berserker, but it could be useful nonetheless.
Sling: A simple, practical weapon Rhia uses with good accuracy. Sure it's not as deadly as a bow, but sometimes all you need is a small rock flying fast enough.
Clothing: Rough spun tunic and trousers, soft boots, a thick cloak, and a simple rope belt.
Skills and Abilities:
Woodlore: Rhiannon possesses a deep understanding of and communication with the flora and fauna within the lands of Terraxia.
Suggestion: The beasts of Terraxia remember the dryads even if the people do not. They will answer Rhia's call.
Bio:
On the day everything changed, Rhiannon was woken by voices so far off as to be a whisper growing slowly into a hum that made her ears twitch, the sound annoyingly indefinite with distance. It was several long minutes before the trees noticed this intrusion, sighing in their shushing cries and trembling against her skin where she curled hidden between their roots. The ones nearer the edge of the wood did not mutter at the presence of men or elves, but these ancient oaks so close to the center shuddered with timeless fears of fire and the death of saplings.
When the travelers grew close enough to make out their words, Rhia cracked her eyes open, the orbs kept half-lidded to reduce her chance of being spotted, though she needn’t have bothered. The pair stayed blissfully unaware of their observer, deep in a conversation full of names Rhia did not know and places she had never seen.
The two men spoke easily, comfortable and familiar with each other and as she watched, Rhia felt a familiar pang of longing. Why should she not have a people like beasts and men and even trees? She felt as though nothing might be better than having something understand, something feel as she did.
Indecision kept her rooted as the men passed mere feet in front of her, however, their heads bent together, never once glancing into the foliage below. What she longed for could not be found in the wood, Rhia felt certain, and yet the idea of leaving her home filled the druid with an unease she could not easily ignore. What if she would find no companionship? What if she truly was alone in all the world? What if she left and could not find her way home?
As Rhiannon mulled this over, the men moved on, stepping down a distant slope until even their voices began to disappear once more. Suddenly afraid that she might lose them, she slipped languidly from her hiding spot, leaves rustling faintly at her passage. She supposed that if there was truly no one in the world for her, she was no worse off than she was now, and when had she last gotten lost, anyway? At least she would know, might even understand. With on look at the great forest around her, Rhiannon set off in the direction the men had gone.
