This is looking pretty sweet, hope you won't mind if I try my hand at an application.
✶ P R O F I L EBIRTHNAME:
Bon Copperhelm
OTHER NAMES:
“Bon, just Bon.”
AGE:
42
GENDER:
Female
RACE:
Half-Dwarf
BIRTHPLACE:
Gard, Amorynthia
RELIGION:
Nature, or the First Child. Moreso than actively worship the Mothers, Bon has believes in their creation – even if she herself would describe her faith as fact rather than religion. Bon values nature as if divine, but doesn't deem any part of it as good or evil as the followers of the current Pantheon would. Rather Bon considers the subject of her worship a primal force, one that functions outside the boundaries of morality.
✶ P H Y S I C A L I T YHEIGHT:
4'3
WEIGHT:
76 lbs
APPEARANCE:
As her dwarven lineage dictates, Bon is short and her build on the stocky side. Her face on the other hand, shows more human traits. She possesses a narrow jaw, large and expressive eyes, thick lips and a slight olive tan. Her wild, black hair is riddled with straps and ornaments she crafted for herself, like souvenirs from the sights she has seen. Bon wears robes and skins, not always entirely without the musk of their previous bearers. Strangely, neither the questionable hygiene of her garments or Bon's age has much affect on her health or appearance. In fact, few would estimate Bon over twenty-five.
SKILLS, STRENGTHS & TALENTS:
In combat, Bon is feral. Literally. Her magic enables her to shapeshift into wild animals while maintaining her rational mind. This makes her a powerful and versatile opponent. However, Bon cannot transform seamlessly from one animal to another; she always needs to revert to her original form first. She can only transform so many times per day and needs to stay in that form for at least twenty minutes, including the form of her half-dwarven self.
This same magic enhances Bon's instincts. Like a wild animal, she senses fear and can predict storms or even earthquakes. Rot and decay occur much slower when Bon is around. Even she herself doesn't age as much as one would expect.
Bon is skilled at navigation and survival. She is self-sufficient, hunting her own food and crafting her own clothes. Bon has pockets of knowledge on all kinds of environments and the benefits and dangers they produce. For example, she might be able to tell whether a mushroom in a given environment is edible or poisonous. That said, because of Bon her migratory nature, her knowledge is nowhere near absolute. Specific details or deeper complexities about that one particular mushroom's reaction to a summer rain may escape her “Did it mimic direwolf pheromones, did release flammable spores... I'm not sure, but I remember it is delicious. Try it.” Bon can often share rudimentary knowledge about settlements based on her travels. For example, she may deduce what kind of stone the masons used to build a church, or tell where a market stall got their fish (and if it really is as fresh as they'd have you believe.)
Though reaching an understanding with Bon can be... Trying, she is rather sociable. Bon finds it easy to talk to most people regardless of their background or disposition. Her honest and upfront (if somewhat blunt) nature makes Bon an easy to trust woman. Entertaining others is something Bon quite enjoys and with a wealth of stories and knowledge at her disposal, she can hold quite the conversation.
WEAKNESSES & DRAWBACKS:
Because Bon transforms into wild animals in order to fight, she rarely if ever benefits from what is quite possible humanity's greatest asset; the ability to use weapons and tools in combat. Certainly she might transform into a wolf, but a thick hide is no substitute for plate armour and fangs are not warhammers. If an enemy mounts a horse in order to escape, she cannot fire a bow at their backs or grab a horse of her own to pursue without forgoing her transformation.
Bon is not very respectful of the 'fledgling' gods and their associated religions. She cares little for others their religious rituals and sensibilities. Bon is equally concerned with people's opinions on her expressing said views. This makes her appear antagonistic (if not heretic) towards the more devout followers. Similar to her disregard for modern religion, Bon considers many social structures foolish or childish. That doesn't sit well with those who feel they or others are entitled to her respect, such as lords or particularly prideful humans.
As Bon her outlook on morality often shapes itself as (and I quote;) “It just is.” many consider her brand of philosophy alienating. Likewise, she has no attachment to the concept of home, so is unlikely to lend herself to territorial disputes. Bon considers vengeance foolhardy because she does not believe in retribution. Whether this perspective is the fruit of divine wisdom or utter madness, I'll leave up to the individual, but it can certainly make her difficult to work or reason with.
On the other hand, something that does actively bother Bon is the unnatural, such as curses and magic that needlessly corrupts nature. She particularly distrusts Nosferytes to the point of outright prejudice and racism. Likewise, she objects to exhaustion of farmland and considers many cities disgraceful. Being in the presence of any of the aforementioned elements disturbs her on a spiritual level.
✶ B E L O N G I N G SATTIRE:
Bon wears a cloak and mishmash garments made of various animal skins. Her clothes and hair are interwoven with pieces of bone, bark and stone; though more for sentimental reasons than practical purpose. Her self-made leather boots and gloves which, though far from fashionable – much less matching, are perfectly functional.
WEAPONS:
Though preferring weaponry of the claw and teeth variance, Bon is capable of handling the axe and javelin. She carries an old, somewhat rusty, dwarven-made battle-axe as well as ten handmade javelins.
TOOLS:
Bon carries with her small leather bags filled of tools to make her life in the wilderness easier. Tools such as rope, flint and a waterskin go without saying, but Bon also carries the means to fix clothing or carve wood and leather. The most unusual of her items is perhaps a mortar to crush leaves and herbs with. After all, there's many things lying around just waiting to made into tea.
PERSONAL ITEMS:
Aforementioned ornaments and trinkets interwoven with her clothing or hair. Other notable items include a drinking horn cut out of a grey bone, a hairbrush you'd be hard-pressed to believe to be of much use, and a tiny pair of reading glasses to which Bon is strangely attached.
✶ H I S T O R Y”The clan, the clan. Always about the clan. You'd think my father would shut up about family or forges sometime, but nay. To dwarves, you see, family is everything. Oppressed by shackles of the past, they make sure they stick together – and with a half for a daughter in a town like Gard, old man Copperhelm doubled down on those teachings.
My mother was human, you see. Lovely woman, and as tall as a tree. Father's nose would be about the same height as her waist when they stood next to one another. I didn't know any better as a lass, but I was often told it was a hilarious sight. Still don't get the joke myself, even after all these years.
Either way, not many dwarves take human brides. Most don't trust humans, you see, so my father did all he could so my mother and I were accepted by the clan. He'd shout at everyone who'd try to claim otherwise, brothers, neighbours, even our elders. Hell, the moment anyone even looked at me funny, his hand would be on his axe. To me, father would always drone on about the importance of the clan and how it was my heritage. Yes, yes, I was a dwarven lass. Bit tall for one - and not as pretty as far as my cousins were concerned, but to my father and his side of the family, I was a Copperhelm all the same.
My mother's side of the family on the other hand? Never seen 'em. Was told not to worry about it, that should tell you enough. My human side however, came up when I was twelve. I believe the word mother used for it was puberty. Strange word for a strange thing. I remember I just wanted out. Out of my home, out of Gard, and that desire lead to the best and worst decision I made my entire my life.
One day, I jumped on the back of a merchant's carriage, knowing it'd take me south. Hid between his wares, I did, but I wasn't a smart lass. I hadn't packed any food. The third day on the road I knew for sure my stomach would rat me out, so when the merchant stopped to feed the horses, I sneaked out of hiding, hoping to find myself something to bite on. Didn't go as well as I'd hoped, I'll tell you that. The merchant took me for a thief and drew his axe. Chased me all the way up the hills, taught me a slew of obscenities, he did. But at the end of the day, he had a job to get back to. Me? I was lost and alone in the hills with nothing but the clothes on my back. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse; it started to rain.
So there I am, drenched down to my knickers and sneezing my lungs out in the middle of nowhere. I dragged my feet to a cave. Little did I know that by the next dawn I'd feel so sick I'd be spending the rest of the week on that rocky floor. It would have made for a short adventure weren't it for the next morning, where I hit it off with a bear.
Now to a half like me, reckon I'm at least a feet and a half shorter than your everyday human lass, bears are giants! Imagine waking up and staring in the eyes of a beast so large; it could swallow you whole! Chewing optional. I was scared shitless. Would've screamed if I could, but my cries for couldn't make their way up my sore throat; I just wheezed and squeaked. I could swear I saw that bear laughing, it did. A laughing bear. I thought I'd seen it all, but the next second that bear shifted into the shape of a snickering, elderly woman. It's a miracle I didn't faint on the spot.
Varaan, the woman called herself. After she had her fill of laughter, Varaan brewed me tea. It tasted like piss, sure, but she saved my life with that bitter stuff, she did. Varaan told me she was a druid – a simple servant of the First Child. I told her I wanted to go back home, but we both knew I was in no condition to. So Varaan took care of me. She brewed more teas, the one even more pungent than the other. She brought me roots and meat to chow down. She kept watch while I slept, perhaps bit down a troll or two at night – truth be told I was too scared to ask what the noise was about. Still. We spent a lot more time than either of us had bargained for, such is life.
By the time I got back on my feet, Varaan decided she enjoyed my company enough to see me home. Aye, a gentle woman, powerful magician and wise soul she might have been; a pathfinder she was not. Two years. It took us two years to return to Gard. But the times, the adventures that we had in those hills... I'll speak of them another time, perhaps.
Alas, I found my way back to Gard. To my father, my mother... To the Copperhelm clan. My time with Varaan had changed me. I'd never seen eye to eye with my father when I was a lass, but then and there, as a slightly taller lass, the distance between us was wider than the road I'd travelled. I'd taken after Varaan, you see. In those two years she had shown me wonders and horrors both I'd never dreamt of. It was good to sleep in my old bunk for a night or two... But I started longing back to the adventures I had. It was as if I'd forgotten the comfort of home. Even mother's stove was nauseating. I longed for the wilderness.
And so I wandered – back to nature and back to the teachings of Varaan. I found her quite easily and she took her under her wing. We travelled without destination as I learned of her art, then I travelled and learned some more. I haven't been back to Gard since. It is not a home, it is not a clan, that brings me happiness. It is these... How many... Thirty-odd years that have gifted me the joy of life. To serve the First Child and to have become keen to a world most this day and age have forgotten... It is a bliss unlike any other.”
Thanks for the application! Bon is wonderful. It's late here, but you can definitely expect a message from me tomorrow. I look forward to discussing her with you!
