Autumn War Chargen Attempt #1: Fetch
Trying this based on the Autumn War character gen post cucumberseed listed.
We'll cut this for some dorkitude.
Fetch - Adult Cypress; Meek scout charged to find the origins of Dahan Nen
Grief 6 - Orphaned and only child, no grounding, feels aimless
Fear 8 - Fears being enslaved by the Cedar Province
Courage 4 - Must overcome insecurity to build her future as a Parent
Traits: Resourceful, Pacifist, Sneaky (C), Attentive
Abilities: Forager 8, Pathfinder 10, Wayfarer 8, Bard 8, Bane 8, Others: 6
- Tactics*: Neutral, Neutral Hard, Negative Soft.
Arts: Lingo (Cedar), Literacy, Dog Handler
Advantages: Blessed (Bane)
Gear: Tin whistle, Doggeh**.
(discretionary points: -2 spirit for Blessed [bane]; 1 pt for Bane +1die, 1/2 pt for Neutral Hard tactic, 1/2 pt for 2 gear [whistle, dog].)
* - Fetch doesn't like getting in someone's face. If someone wants to start a fight with Fetch, it will be on her terms on her preferred ground and with plenty of time for her to be ready. Her preferred method for dealing with Banes is to set up a trap or other pitfall for the mockery to fall into, where she can deal with it (or not) at her leisure. As for other creatures (or people), she prefers to strike hard from afar, with a good exit strategy worked out if possible.
** - Damn dog just kept following her when she left the camp in the middle of the night. She doesn't want it to get hurt, but she can't won't make it go away.
Concept: Fetch was a foundling left on the figurative doorstep of one of the few Cypress Bards left in the province. Being as her "grandfather" was an exceptionally old man, she got her name as a result of her constant zipping back and forth across the camp (or camps) to obtain small items, trade favors, steal liquor, wrangling and herding the swamp dogs the camp collected, or otherwise make herself useful. As she was the only one in the camp who really gave a damn about the old man, she benefited from his considerable knowledge, at least enough to figure out how to read and play some songs sorta well on her whistle (her fingers being just too thick and fleshy to work a harp adeptly). As her camp spent several years moving along the borderlands of the Cedar-occupied territory, she had plenty of time to learn the rudiments of their language during occasional carnivals, festivals, and the inevitable pogroms that followed after enough Cedar Girls ended up Cedar Mothers with no husbands to make them honest.
Among her other duties, Fetch also frequently played guardian to the burial pool that the Cypress had hidden further within their limited territory. This meant a lot of trekking through mockery-infested marshland, trying to dodge Swamp Tigers coming from or going to their graverobbing feasts. It wasn't after too many of these solitary sentries, that she figured out that she could sense when something "wrong" was approaching the pools and could plan accordingly to try to trap or otherwise ward it off. Word of this got her to Grandfather, who (after beating her a bit for being stupid enough to let him get word of it) revealed that his arts had discovered that the provinces were soon to be plagued by another Adversary was gathering power to manifest. There were scrolls and books and songs that told how to forestall this, or, if possible, how to defeat the Adversary - but those resources were now deep within the territory that the Cedars were scrubbing free of Cypress influence. And, obviously, they were probably surrounded by mockeries and the Adversary's agents. Still, Fetch had a better than nothing chance to find them and bring them back, so nice knowing ya, kid. Go be a hero. Or Die.
Name: Fetch. It's what she does. It's who she is. A little better than an animal, but really not closely watched all the same. This suits her fine, 'cause she can learn a lot more if people think she's not important. Like most Cypresses, she can talk her jaw off, but usually only does so to stave off boredom or to keep the Silence from crushing in on her.
Song: No clue.
Image: A little chunkier than a runner and scout should be, but still good at what she does. She wears clothes a bit more like a boy than a girl, but appreciates keeping her hair in a good braid in order to keep it out of her face. Fetch is only just barely an adult, and only that because of the number of times she's witnessed violence (pogroms, drunken fights, the spoor of other unfortunate Cypresses the Swamp Tigers caught unawares). The nostrils of Fetch's sorta flat nose (courtesy of boyfriend #1 and only) are scarred with the notches that a Imperial census taker gave her in deferrence to her affection for dogs.
Need a spotcheck on the systems, though.
-12th
We'll cut this for some dorkitude.
Fetch - Adult Cypress; Meek scout charged to find the origins of Dahan Nen
Grief 6 - Orphaned and only child, no grounding, feels aimless
Fear 8 - Fears being enslaved by the Cedar Province
Courage 4 - Must overcome insecurity to build her future as a Parent
Traits: Resourceful, Pacifist, Sneaky (C), Attentive
Abilities: Forager 8, Pathfinder 10, Wayfarer 8, Bard 8, Bane 8, Others: 6
- Tactics*: Neutral, Neutral Hard, Negative Soft.
Arts: Lingo (Cedar), Literacy, Dog Handler
Advantages: Blessed (Bane)
Gear: Tin whistle, Doggeh**.
(discretionary points: -2 spirit for Blessed [bane]; 1 pt for Bane +1die, 1/2 pt for Neutral Hard tactic, 1/2 pt for 2 gear [whistle, dog].)
* - Fetch doesn't like getting in someone's face. If someone wants to start a fight with Fetch, it will be on her terms on her preferred ground and with plenty of time for her to be ready. Her preferred method for dealing with Banes is to set up a trap or other pitfall for the mockery to fall into, where she can deal with it (or not) at her leisure. As for other creatures (or people), she prefers to strike hard from afar, with a good exit strategy worked out if possible.
** - Damn dog just kept following her when she left the camp in the middle of the night. She doesn't want it to get hurt, but she can't won't make it go away.
Concept: Fetch was a foundling left on the figurative doorstep of one of the few Cypress Bards left in the province. Being as her "grandfather" was an exceptionally old man, she got her name as a result of her constant zipping back and forth across the camp (or camps) to obtain small items, trade favors, steal liquor, wrangling and herding the swamp dogs the camp collected, or otherwise make herself useful. As she was the only one in the camp who really gave a damn about the old man, she benefited from his considerable knowledge, at least enough to figure out how to read and play some songs sorta well on her whistle (her fingers being just too thick and fleshy to work a harp adeptly). As her camp spent several years moving along the borderlands of the Cedar-occupied territory, she had plenty of time to learn the rudiments of their language during occasional carnivals, festivals, and the inevitable pogroms that followed after enough Cedar Girls ended up Cedar Mothers with no husbands to make them honest.
Among her other duties, Fetch also frequently played guardian to the burial pool that the Cypress had hidden further within their limited territory. This meant a lot of trekking through mockery-infested marshland, trying to dodge Swamp Tigers coming from or going to their graverobbing feasts. It wasn't after too many of these solitary sentries, that she figured out that she could sense when something "wrong" was approaching the pools and could plan accordingly to try to trap or otherwise ward it off. Word of this got her to Grandfather, who (after beating her a bit for being stupid enough to let him get word of it) revealed that his arts had discovered that the provinces were soon to be plagued by another Adversary was gathering power to manifest. There were scrolls and books and songs that told how to forestall this, or, if possible, how to defeat the Adversary - but those resources were now deep within the territory that the Cedars were scrubbing free of Cypress influence. And, obviously, they were probably surrounded by mockeries and the Adversary's agents. Still, Fetch had a better than nothing chance to find them and bring them back, so nice knowing ya, kid. Go be a hero. Or Die.
Name: Fetch. It's what she does. It's who she is. A little better than an animal, but really not closely watched all the same. This suits her fine, 'cause she can learn a lot more if people think she's not important. Like most Cypresses, she can talk her jaw off, but usually only does so to stave off boredom or to keep the Silence from crushing in on her.
Song: No clue.
Image: A little chunkier than a runner and scout should be, but still good at what she does. She wears clothes a bit more like a boy than a girl, but appreciates keeping her hair in a good braid in order to keep it out of her face. Fetch is only just barely an adult, and only that because of the number of times she's witnessed violence (pogroms, drunken fights, the spoor of other unfortunate Cypresses the Swamp Tigers caught unawares). The nostrils of Fetch's sorta flat nose (courtesy of boyfriend #1 and only) are scarred with the notches that a Imperial census taker gave her in deferrence to her affection for dogs.
Need a spotcheck on the systems, though.
-12th