Difference between revisions of "Balancing the Scales, part 1"

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Latest revision as of 19:31, 31 July 2020

Log Info

  • Title: Balancing the Scales, part 1
  • Emitter: Cryosanthia
  • Characters: Aimarra, Tawyse, Joro
  • Place: Alexandrian Gates
  • Time: Thursday, July 30, 2020, 5:14 PM
  • Summary: Aimarra is waiting at the City Gates, for Lt. Trygve and the other party members to arrive. Tawyse does, but Mourner Locien and Elyanna are nowhere to be seen. Sgt. Udgar is still on duty from the day before, having performed the safety watch, and is letting people into Alexandria. An argument with Tawyse over whether Chaucy, her giant rhino beetle, needs a sticker ensues, with the gnome eventually relenting after explaining her policy of bullying the bullies. Joro arrives on the road, a huge, unkempt jotun woman. Sgt. Udgar approaches and addresses here, dumbing down the city rules. Joro is shocked that she can't fight for coin (or shinies as she puts it) and the sergent explains those opportunities do exist. The others complain about Lt. Trygve wasting their time as he arrives. He is pleased the punctual, overjoyed a gnome is involved, and unexpectedly intimidated when Joro is sent in his direction to participate in his task. A small man, the Lt. decides a giant is exactly what is called for, and demands a report from Udgar. Udgar explains the prisoner did accidentally hurt itself during the night and now is being questioned by their sith-makar guard. Lt. Trygve berates him. Tawyse suggests to Aimarra that if the guards didn't hurt the prisoner enough to make him friendly to them, they could always put some punches in, which the lieutennant overhears and strongly approves of.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Aimarra      5'1"     128 Lb     Half-Elf          Female    Brown hair and eyes, breastplate, leathers, pointed ears.
Tawyse       3'0"     33 Lb      Gnome             Female    An orange-haired Gnome in green leather armor.
Joro         8'10"    532 Lb     Giantborn         Female    A towering female Jotun in kilted armor.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  As the GM  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     267 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.

The Alexandrian city gates, Eldwyn Road entrance.

It's a pale morning, the moon is full and lingering, showing through the mists that seem to have blanketed the countryside. Inside the walls, the air is clearer, but the sun is still a hazy bright spot rising in the grey sky, working to burn off the mist.

It's past first light, so the gates are open, but the gatehouse isn't yet for visitors. The first to arrive has been asked to wait for the others, and the ever important Trygve. Meanwhile, the opportunity to enter the city is available to its newest arrival.

"This is worse than Tashraan in summer," Aimarra grumbles, leaning against the wall just inside the gate, all her gear ready to go, bow over her back, arms folded across her chest, one foot up and flat against the wall. "At least there's sunshine in Tashraan. This is like sleeping in a wet blanket."

"But it looks so majestic, doesn't it?", comes a voice from nearby. The Gnome is stretched out upon the back of a giant rhinoceros beetle, which slowly enters the gate from the outside. "All this wonderful grey just blends in well with the dank smells and the muggy wet blanket in the air, doesn't it?" The beetle huffs, and comes to a stop, and then begins to ponderously turn around, forcing other traffic to turn to avoid it. Tawyse sits up and grins at Aimarra. "All excited for the trip?"

There is little waiting at the gates. Those camped outside, overnight, have been let in. The carts that will arrive don't enjoy travelling through the dark, so they will be a little longer still.

Out of the morning mists near the gate of Alexandria comes Joro. She walks with an almost haphazard clambering, the various items lashed to her pack swinging merrily as she nears the entrance. It's easy to see her coming, even from the gate. Her gait slows as she nears the city itself, beady eyes squinting a bit to peer at the buildings that loom into view over the walls. The guards checking people through into the city were lazily conducting their morning jobs, but now they seem a bit more alert as the mountain of a woman nears the checkpoint.

"I want the balls of whoever's equipping these little pests on a pike," Aimarra answers Tawyse without missing a beat, looking up at her. it is clear enough that the two know each other. "One of them at the bridge had a thunderbelcher and was a better shot with it than I'd have guessed. Watch yourself, something shady's going on here." She scowls, clearly not liking something, but it's the noise more than the look from Joro that gets her attention, since she leans against the wall of the gatehouse, facing into the city. "What..."

There is a particular guard on duty. Aimarra would recognize him as Udgar, the older one she encountered the previous day. He looks tired, as if he's been up all night. There are scratches on his face. Still, he holds his glaive firmly, straight. His back, less straight, but still standing tall. His head turns to watch the giant beetle and rider meander in. "Make sure she gets a stamp." He's in the process of saying, then Joro's arrival draws his attention.

The Gnome's eyes shift to the guard. "A stamp? For what? I'm answering your call for assistance, am I not?", she says gruffly. "You're not stamping anything. I'll wait outside." Tawyse glances to Aimarra. "Could be anyone. Or maybe they waylaid a caravan that was carrying them. They're crafty critters, much like Goblins. Wouldn't underestimate them." She makes a clicking sound with her tongue, and raps the beetle's back. It moves towards the exit, pausing to wait for Joro to enter first.

"Oooh..." The guard's voice drops and his brow furrows. "I didn't call for you. You'd be waiting on Trygve. Thought you were bringing the beetle in, if you're not, wait wherever."

Udgar makes a gesture towards the other guards then moves into Joro's way. He leans and looks up, his back cracks. His voice is loud and cheerful, even if his expression is stoney and matching the mists. "Greetings Traveller! First time to Alexandria?"

Aimarra puts her other booted foot on the ground and straightens up, craning her neck around to look at both the guard, and whatever is making that noise. "She's a friend," he tells the guard with a grin. "She knows the land around here better than I do." She stops and frankly _stares_ at Joro as the jotun woman approaches.

Joro peers out at the walls, leaning over to her left, then her right, almost as if she's trying to see if there's a way around them. Her eyes then center on the entrance itself, just as Udgar blocks her path. A meaty, bandage covered hand reaches up to scratch at her own head a bit, causing a light cascade of dust from the intrusion. "Uhhhh, Joro be Joro. Not traveller." Feeling like she's made her point, Joro sits down. This is not done gracefully in any manner, resulting in a decent thud as her flanks hit the ground. The second part of Udgar's hailing is left with no reply, as the Jotun girl swings around her travel pack from her back to her lap, and immediately begins rummaging through it.

"Why would you need to stamp my mount?", Tawyse wonders of the Udgar. "He is much like a horse. And I would stable him if I were staying. I am merely waiting for this fellow you speak of. Is it alright if I wait inside the gate with my mount? I've no intention of going into the city proper unless that is part of my mission here for Trygve." She looks to Aimarra and grins, and then looks to see what has drawn her attention. The Gnome simply shrugs after a time. "When you're my size, everyone is a giant.", she says with a chuckle.

Udgar jumps a little, or perhaps is bounced by the impact. His glaive remains perfectly vertical, and he's a pace or two back where it would be useful if dropped horizontal. His voice remains cheery. He looks over at Tawyse, "So patrolling guards don't ask you why he doesn't have a gate stamp, and so random people don't have an excuse to attack him because they think he's a monster that got loose. Yes, he has riding tack and is clearly behaved, but you'd be surprised. Or maybe not. Wait anywhere, it's fine."

His attention returns to Joro, "Well met Joro! There is an inspection and some rules before you can enter Alexandria. Do you wish to enter the city?"

When the guard begins speaking to her again, the rummaging stops. As she's seated now, Joro ceases looking into her pack, and instead looks up at the guard. She stares at him while he speaks, visibly concentrating on the words he's saying. There's a decent pause after he finishes talking, her brow furrowing in through. "Hmmm..." After another look down into her pack, and a couple subsequent seconds of rummaging, she transfers the pack back onto her shoulders, the various odds and ends clanking around as she does so. A husky nod is finally given in response to Udgar. "Joro go city. Need munches."

Aimarra continues to stare at the interaction between the giantborn and the guard, but looks back at Tawyse. "I kind of get it," she tells the gnome, more quietly and with less grumble than before. "Clancy scared me too, the first time I saw him." Not that the half-sil had been in the best frame of mind in that first forest encounter.

The Gnome chuckles and nods to Aimarra. "Chaucy. He can be scary, I suppose. But he's all bark and no bite, unless things are really bad. Then he'll charge and gore things with his horn." She looks to Udgar then and shrugs. "They did not hand out stamps the last time I was here. What kind of stamp is it? I don't want any permanent marks on him."

Udgar exhales, scratching over his ear under his helmet, looking at Tawyse again, "Some hell-tainted critters been showing up. Your Clancy is clearly a regular terrifying giant rhino beetle, and not a hell-spawned one. It's a sticker, oil-paper and glue. You can put it on the beetle or his tack, it comes off with some scrubbing." He points at another gate guard, "He'll give you a couple."

Udgar's attention returns to Joro. Hopefully she doesn't mind the wait, as he has to think. He ponders just how much the city regulations should be dumbed down for the jotun. His glance lingers on the twigs in her permanent braids, the dried blood on bandages that served their purpose long ago. All the way down.

"Ok. Joro. No Fighting. No Killing. Pay Money for Things. These are the Alexandrian rules. Is that clear?"

A light gasp comes from the Jotun girl as the rules are explained, along with an almost pouty look taking over her dirty face. She sits up a bit more attentively now, her full focus on Udgar. "Joro no fight? How Joro get shinies? No pits? No ring? If no get shinies, no get munchies!" She doesn't seem offended in any way, just genuinely taken aback by the first rule. Whatever issue she has with the explanation, it seems to have completely thrown off her plans for acquiring food. Despite her clamoring about not being able to fight, she has at least made it clear she knows she's expected to exchange coin for services.

"It's fine, Tawyse." Aimarra tries to reassure the put-out gnome, but her attention remains transfixed by the massive jotun blocking the gate, in discussions with the guard. "By the Hunter's bow, if I wanted to keep that kobold in line," she mutters, half to herself, but audible to the guard. "That's how I'd do it."

Tawyse huffs in annoyance, and looks to the other guards. "Fine. I will take a stamp. Not my fault if he scratches it off." She looks to Aimarra and shrugs. Her eyes flick to the Giantborn and she nods. "Well, if you need physical force, I am sure she is quite capable of lethal amounts of it."

"I'll... be sure to suggest that to Lieutennant Trygve, but I'm under orders not to discuss the prisoner with you." Udgar glances at Aimarra, and he looks tired. His age is showing, there are dark circles under his eyes. There are a lot of small scratches on his face, all treated with iodine, giving him an odd rusted complexion. Under his breath he mutters, "He wasn't a problem."

Udgar quickly turns his attention back to Joro, waving his free hand in a calming way. "Pit is called Colosseum here. You can fight there for shinies. Explorer's Guild, will hire you to do tasks, fight for shinies. This fighting is allowed. I have one more thing to do, it is check you with an artifice device. I will point it at you, turn it on, it will flash some colours. It will not harm you and it will not explode. Do I have your... Ok to use it?"

Joro wiggles her nose a bit as she listens, brows furrowed. She's obviously focusing direly on the guard's explanation. "Cuh.. Cawll ohhh see um." She reaches up with both hands to rub at her head a bit, as if to get the brain juices flowing. "Uhhhh. Fight for shinies, cawwwwwwlossum. Cawl awesome." Suddenly, she perks up, as if she's just had an epiphany, and hops to her feet with startling speed for someone her size. "Cawl awesome, fight for shinies! Cawl awesome is pit fight!" She throws a couple jabs at the air with a huge grin on her face. Thankfully, the jabs are not aimed at the guard whatsoever. "Yes! Okay. Joro go city."

Aimarra eyes the guard for a good long moment, then shrugs and resumes her leaning position on the wall. Not her business, really. She turns her attention back to Tawyse, now completely ignoring the interaction between the guard and the jotun. "Don't argue, Tawyse. It isn't worth it. I think the Mourner and the oruch slept in." she adds.

The Gnome also avoids the conversation the guard has with the Giantborn. "I hope the guy shows up soon. Bit of a waste of daylight, you know?" She huffs and shakes her head. "Always worth it to argue, lest they bully you around. Have to stand up to them." Tawyse rubs her cheek, and then taps the beetle's carapace. It begins to move sideways, closer to Aimarra, and conveniently in the shade. "Ah well, if they don't show, we can go get something to eat and drink."

GAME: Aimarra rolls sense motive: (5)+2: 7
GAME: Joro rolls Sense Motive: (9)+2: 11
GAME: Tawyse rolls sense motive: (17)+4: 21

One of the other guards comes up to Tawyse and hands her a sticker, with a nod.

Udgar says nothing, his expression remaining stoney as he brings out a wand of some sort. It's thicker, flatter, appears to be a cross between a wand, a baton, or a short scepter that is wide and has a lot of semi-precious, transparent stones embedded in it. It also has a couple tubes running up to the end. He points it at Joro, pushes a button. It comes to life! The gems start flashing, a few armatures pop out of the sides and along the length, and a glowing fluid starts climbing the tubes. He waves it up and down, at various parts of her. Finally the light reaches the top, all the armatures stop waving around, and the tip of the device turns green, "Ok Joro, you can enter."

Then he has a smile, an ever so slight smile as he says, "You could wait with the others, the Lieutennat is due here... soon. He might be interested in giving you shinies for a task. Oh... and he likes it when you stand close to talk."

Joro lets out a soft, "Oooooh," as she follows the contraption with her eyes while it's waved around. The girl's attention returns to Udgar when he starts talking again. "Oh! Shinies, hmm... Shinies for tusk? Okay." She swings her pack around to her front onto one shoulder so she can shove an arm into it. After a moment of rummaging, she produces a few boar tusks, and offers them to the guard.

"Sure," Aimarra agrees, grinning at the gnome. "I hpe they do show, though. I want that one's hide." Again, she is studiously ignoring Joro's conversation with the guard.

Tawyse raises an eyebrow at the guard's comments, and rubs her face. She glances to Aimarra. "That guy's a jerk.", she says in a whisper. "What is taking this guy so long?" Her voice rises once more. "I bet she'd smash him real good.", the Gnome whispers once more to Aimarra.

GAME: Joro rolls Intelligence: (4)+-2: 2

Udgar looks at the boar tusks. He takes out a pouch, shakes it into his hand. He stares at the coins, a few silver, several coppers, no gold. He pulls out two silvers, thinks a moment, adds two copper to it, puts the rest away and holds the coin out to Joro for her to take, and takes the boar tusks from her. His smile is forced, his voice cheery, and his eyes still tired, "Thank you Joro, excellent deal, just what the missus needs."

"Sergent!" Comes a voice, and whatever faux friendliness Udgar had, vanishes.

The lieutennant is at the gate, with the sun peeking over the buildings behind him, halo-ing him in the mist. He holds a steaming cup of coffee and his armour gleams. He smiles at Aimarra, his double-broken nose making it a crinkled mess. "You'll get his hide. And you brought a gnome! Wonderful! No misplaced compassion there. So this is it or you're waiting on your friend?"

The lieutennant finally takes in Joro properly, and there's a jolt of surprise in his posture, which he covers by sipping his drink.

Aimarra makes a point of waiting for a few breaths before straightening from the wall and unfolding her arms. "Still haven't got anyone speaking the kobold's tongue yet," she points out, politely. "Don't know how much we'll get out of him without that. I don't speak it, for sure. He'll know where his buddies drifted off to."

The orange-haired Gnome raise up her hand. "I do not know draconic, but I can bestow the ability to speak tradespeak upon the kobold.", Tawyse offers. "It has proven handy in the past."

Joro happily exchanges the coins for the boar tusks. They get dropped right into the pack along with whatever else resides inside, jangling as they work their way down through the multitude of odds and ends. She sinches up the over-sized travel pack, and shucks it back onto her shoulders. "Okay!" She turns towards the open gate, and then falters for a moment, her face scrunching up as she obviously ponders something. After some reflection, the scrunching ends, and she starts heading straight towards the small group near the inside of the gate. Her steps, which are normally a dull whump on the bare earth, change to more of a resounding thud as she crosses onto the stone of the city's threshold. Her current path leads her directly to the small group within, namely the two other females and the Lieutenant.

Lieutennant Trygve nods to Aimarra, seems ready to say something when Tawyse adds that she can help with magic. He smiles again, which doesn't improve his looks, "Excellent!"

Looking towards Udgar he orders, "Sergent, report!"

The sergent looks at the small group, looks back at his commanding officer.

"Great that you're still following orders, you can speak about it now. How did the prisoner's night go?"

"Yes sir," Udgar says without energy, "The prisoner was awake all night. There was an accident. It got its head stuck out in the bars. Had to bend them to free it. Some bruises, it's fine. Ichtacka is with the prisoner now, asking the questions you wanted. Everyone else, outside on duty."

"What! What kind of incompetence are you? I ordered a safety watch! This is going on your record. I need that prisoner calm enough to help these adventurers get my Thunderbelcher back." The lieutennant seems livid, red showing in his ears. His hand shakes so much some coffee spills.

Udgar takes that interruption to continue. "Yes, sir. I take responsibility. I was watching him. The prisoner. That's the end." He gestures towards the jotun, "Joro here wishes to help with your task. You'll need to explain taaask to her." He salutes and starts towards the guard-house.

If ever there was anything Aimarra wants nothing to do with, it's that exchange, right there. "We can work with it, Lieutenant." Brown eyes light up with amusement, but she makes a careful study of Chaucy and of the sticker to be placed upon him, without turning around. "Suppose the Mourner slept in. No matter. Anyone else?"

Thump, thump, thump. The Jotun lumbers even closer to the group, and halts a couple meters away when the two militants start talking back and forth. She listens to the conversation as one would watch a tennis match, her head whipping back and forth as they speak to each other, struggling to keep up. "Uhhhhhh. Joro help?" Her gaze turns to the lieutenant, shuffling slightly closer as if to suggest she deserves to have her question answered.

Tawyse offers a nod to Trygve. "I await at your convenience, sir.", she offers, in a soft, level voice. She looks to Aimarra then, and offers a grin. "Alright, it looks like things are finally getting going. We might be done early enough in the day to get other things done later."

While she waits for response, Joro cranes her head to peer at the half-sil and the beetle-riding gnome. The beetle seems to confuse her a bit, and she begins on an inner quest to solve the mystery. At first, she holds up her thumb and finger, about an inch apart, as if to suggest the size of a normal beetle. Then she holds her hands waaaaaay apart, to mimic the size of the giant beetle. After a quick chuckle, her hands drop back down, and she returns to staring at the lieutenant.

Udgar takes the opportunity that Joro's distraction provides to enter the guardhouse.

Trygve, meanwhile, is blessing Tawyse with his twisted smile when the shadow of the jotun falls on him. His head snaps forward. He stares at her belt, which is a mistake, so he looks up, craning his neck to see past the leather-clad overhang. He stares some more, as she goes through her visible thought process, shrinking the giant beetle to regular size and back up again. He swallows, his coffee cup tilting and dumping most of it on the stones at his feet.

The man might achieve a better understanding of his prisoner, or the gnome he's committed to hiring, if his self-importance as a liuetennant didn't rush in to compensate for feeling so small. "Yes. You can help. This is an excellent idea. Glad you volunteered."

Aimarra simply -watches- as Trygve struggles to find mental purchase in dealing with the massive jotun, not really managing to keep an amused smirk off of her face. She is a big one, though... "Yeah. Let's hope for that," she agrees with Tawyse.

The Gnome lowers her voice, glancing over her shoulder at Joro, and then back to Aimarra. "So if they have performed to their usual standard.", Tawyse whispers, "The Kobold will probably be looking for some relief, so we can play nice with him and I think he'll cough up the information we need. If not, did you want to do the punching, or should I?"

"Okay," is all the massive girl responds with at first. Once her initial infatuation with the giant beetle has passed, she once again crashes to the ground with all the grace of a tipped cow, to lean haphazardly against the wall. Her brow furrows again as she starts to talk to herself, "Hmmm.. Joro forget thing... what thing?" She taps on her chin in the classic 'thinking' manner, and just dwells on whatever has ensnared her mind for a while.

GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (18)+5: 23 (guard percep, DC22 to overhear Tawyse)
GAME: Joro rolls intelligence: (14)+-2: 12

"That's okay Joro," Trygve smiles, his voice full of overblown cheer as he beams his crooked grin up at her, then turns it on Tawyse, "Leave all the thinking to the gnome. I like how her mind works."

It's clear he's heard every whispered word, and approved.

Ghoulish cp line.png

Dramatis Personae

Simple and unfussy in appearance, this half-sil woman is a study in browns. Long brown hair of a multitude of lengths that suggest lack of care is ruthlessly braided back in a series of braids to keep it out of the way, and the wisps are contained by pointed but not quite elven-pointed ears. Her skin is medium-fair with enough of a tan to suggest time in the sun, and large brown eyes are set into a face with an upturned nose and very ordinary lips. Though barely topping five feet in height, she is well-toned and muscularly built, on a skeleton that is better described as elfin than sturdy.

Her clothing is just like her - simple and unfussy, a study in brown leathers. The bracers on her wrists are worked with care, stitched with yellow and green thread around the edges of a pattern of flowers and leaves set into the leather, and the one on her left wrist does not manage to fully cover what looks to be a nasty bite scar across her left arm, on both sides of the arm, from the elbow down to where it disappears into the bracers. Only a breastplate and a mottled green cloak, well-made and meant to keep out the weather and pinned with a cloak pin shaped cleverly as a bow and quiver, break the brown-leathers look. A horn-and-wooden shortbow is held half-strung across her back where it can readily be reached, and a matching leather quiver holds a set of ordinary-looking arrows on her right hip.

This Jotun girl can only be described as monumental. Scraping the three meter mark, she is easily a quarter ton of armor and muscle. Her nearly waist-length braid of smokey-colored hair is longer than most dwarves are tall, unkempt even though secured. It is matted with bits of grass and dirt, some visible twigs caught in the mess, giving the impression that at this point, the braid cannot be undone. While also soiled, her kilted armor seems to be of exceptional make for it's condition, consisting of well-made leather reinforced with tarnished metal scales. It seems structurally intact, however judging by the layer of grime, it'd be a wonder if it didn't fall apart should it ever receive a decent cleaning.

Pale blue eyes peer out of her massive skull, almost beady compared to the size of her imposing frame. Those eyes, while obviously functional, lack a certain glint of awareness one would expect from most creatures. Instead, they just seem dull, while not appearing lifeless. Even through her smudged up face, it's still possible to see the dainty features that help distinguish her from a male of her kin, however the differences pretty much stop there. If it weren't for the fact her armor has been fashioned to accommodate her substantial bosom, her overbearing stature would definitely give one pause as to her true gender.

Her physique could be described as bulky, while still retaining some semblance of a feminine curvature, such that her large size distracts from her more womanly features. Tattered strips of bandages, caked with long-since dried blood are haphazardly lashed around her meaty paws, the knuckles of which appear flattened, even with the added layers of bandaging. What's visible of her wrists and forearms appear to be a scarred mess, the injuries becoming less frequent along her almost comically large biceps and herculean shoulders. It is no hard guess that this girl is barbaric in nature, a life of extreme fitness stacked upon an already physically gifted birthright.

The travelling pack she wears is absolutely massive, with a multitude of pockets, straps, and holsters. A torch shoved in one place, a handaxe hanging elsewhere. A disgusting tankard swings from a meat-hook, while a short sword that looks dagger-sized compared to the sheer magnitude of her body rides another strap. Various trinkets can be spotted secured to her person with reckless abandon. Canine fangs are tied to a pack strap, while bits of matted fur are roughly sewn onto various pouches. Even a crude necklace, laden with what can only be various humanoid teeth dangles around her collar. All this brawn and equipment is carried upon two tree-trunks disguised as legs, which are encased by a pair of boots in such disrepair that they would make any cobbler scream in terror.

Height Ref: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/f7/Robert_Wadlow_postcard.jpg/800px-Robert_Wadlow_postcard.jpg

Dressed in dark green leather armor, this orange-haired Gnome has all the hallmarks of an outdoorsman.

The most noticeable thing about the Gnome is that her hair is a bright, fiery orange. It is absolutely wild, probably never having more than a cursory combing of fingers. It IS clean, however, with a few wildflowers and sprigs of juniper woven with strands of hair into rough braids. Her eyebrows are typically long, and match her hair in brightness and hue. A button nose is framed by dark brown eyes, and her small, round lips are also tinted slightly orange.

Her frame is lithe and short, her musculature indicative of someone who has spent a good portion of their lives out of doors and on the move.

She wears a long, white gambeson made of light cloth, which covers her from neck to ankle. Several slits have been cut from the bottom up to her thighs, allowing her freedome of movement. Over the gambeson she wears leather armor dyed a dark green. The upper part of the torso clings tightly to her chest, while the lower part is essentially a leather skirt which goes to her knees. Leather pieces cover her legs and arms, again allowing for very good freedom of movement.

She does dress for the weather, with a dark green cloak thrown over her on rainy and snowy days. And it is very rare to see her without her trusty giant beetle mount, Chaucy.