THIS IS A FIRST ATTEMPT AT A DND CHARACTER FROM A NEWBIE
Any sentient being holds the capability for change. Time bites steel and stops heart, wrinkles skin and heals wounds, but that isn’t relevant to Catrin Elaine. Who cares for time when you’ve got so much? People will and have always been not to be trusted. She’ll never need a hand. No one cares. Left her for dead. To the dead. She’ll never love nor understand love. Never smile. Never talk. Who needs people?
A strange thing happened once near a small village in a valley. There was a day when the dead rose in a great mass and descended upon that small village. The villagers fought gallantly and the untimely siege passed within a matter of days, the leftover monsters scattering to the woods in smaller groups. What the villagers did not know is that the cottage of an elven couple wanting to live a quieter life away from larger crowds with their small daughter would be the victims of the collective regrouping of those same undead. The couple tried to fight for themselves, but it takes the strength and hope and better preparedness of a group of living to overcome that much death. The couple had fallen prey to the persistence of the beasts with their final well wishes to the survival of their child. Catrin, the young miss now sadden with loss, had boarded herself up in the house’s kitchen to wait for the moans to die out, armed with a knife. She stayed there for a long time, making her own talk with imaginary people, questioning why the real ones never came to make the monsters go away. In her own sense she never quite forgave those townsfolk, but never stopped believing in them either.
The day she left was silent. No one besides the small wood elf was around, all moaning gone. Catrin, still young and slightly stupid with her newfound freedom set out to find someone, anyone, just to have company. A short trek later, she happened upon the very town full of people. She went to the noisiest place around, a small packed bar where she befriended a group of merchants heading out to some unknown place. Enticed by their tales and nice tasting food and drink, she was sleepily loaded onto the caravan that evening with a hope that the other girls put with her would be fast friends. They became wise cracking and insult trading allies, yes, but only in the small adventure to overtake the “merchants” and their operation and with a newfound distrust of sweet words and wine.
Catrin and those young ladies did support and travel with each other until they happened upon the next town; a trading center located next a forest famous for its camping ground. It was here that Catrin learned to pickpocket extensively and stole her food and supplies from local campers, each reporting of a blue eyed, red haired ghost who spirited away parts other their belongings with a large smile. She never took much from one group or another, but stole from many. It was enough that the nearby town contracted a huntress who happened to be at the local bar to look into the thieveries. The huntress easily caught the inexperienced elf after a boisterous chase, and seeing just how young and foolish she was, decided that the best punishment she could offer was her tutelage.
Catrin then began a new period of extensive training in the arts of a ranger. The exercises and abilities learned during those years are not just learned, but seared into the soul of Ms. Elaine by the very huntress of veritable notoriety Dai Idwal. The relationship that formed between these two during the grueling lessons is one of unmitigated showmanship and competition, playful yet serious threats of death, and undoubtable loyalty between student and mentor that is a sign of a powerful kinship. The great Huntress Dai also loves tricks. It is one of her better known to slip Catrin into the high Elven courts under the guise of being the third Idwal sister to train under the second, Enid Idwal, as a lady, simply to spite Catrin and spur her to a better education.
It is here that the more well-known fame of Catrin Elaine begins, and her education in the ways of communication of all forms. It’s in the courts that the red haired elf danced and talked her way through many ballrooms and bedrooms of influential people. There are a plethora of legends of the pranks she has pulled on political figures, and anyone the stayed there while she was present can attest to the sight of her countless acrobatics out of the guest lodgings windows during the early hours of the mornings. It wasn’t that Catrin was particularly witty or charming that she gained so many lovers and enemies, just an ample persistence, great luck, and quick reflexes during perceived opportunities. It wasn’t also that Catrin didn’t know how to behave, the younger Idwal sister made complete assurance that all of the knowledge of the courtesies and intricacies of higher living was burned into the wood elf with the same ferocity as the military weaponry and tracking that Dai had imparted. Enid Idwal also had a rather interesting hobby of matchmaking that she famous for. There were even rumors of her aptitude for the persuasive capability of the perfumes and charms making people more willing to commit. Catrin was soon a victim of the younger Idwal sibling’s meddling and contracted to a suitor most beneficial to the political game of hers. Catrin did not care for this one bit. It is here that Catrin called upon all her resources, the care and cunning of her friends, companions, and allies to make the most pointlessly theatrical and scandalous escape to grace the courts in a long time. She succeeded, leaving a groom scorned and a home she should be wary of returning to.
And this is where, with the resources gifted and stolen from the courts, which the wild haired Catrin Elaine came to roam from town to town doing odd jobs of one kind or another. She picks up some basic skills in practically every profession, never quite managing to master any of them that the Idwal sisters didn’t teach. Adventuring was supposed to be short term job with transitory people she would probably think fondly of but not invest in. Little did she know that the individuals she now travels with have prompted a newfound disguise, a curse, and a habit of sticking up for people that only hints at a mischievous new future yet undiscovered.
Any sentient being holds the capability for change. Time bites steel and stops heart, wrinkles skin and heals wounds, and this is sorely relevant to Catrin Elaine. Who can waste time when you’ve got so little? People and their intentions, good and bad, are the only things you can count on. She’ll always need a hand, and someone will always need hers. There’s no time or relevance for the dead, for they aren’t useful. She’ll hope to find someone who’ll stay by her, and she’ll find a way to make it last. Offer a smile. Pull up a chair. People hold the possibility for so much, don’t they?