Araceli Pathfinder

[Lark]

Name: Araceli Pathfinder
Age: 22
Birthplace: The Northlands, up past the Tall Rocks.
Gender: Female
Species: Mouse
Job/Position: Warrior (Maybe Champion of Redwall? I'd like her to be, or to become it, but I figured I'd write the character up first. I want to make sure everything's alright with the character before I apply for a position!)
Physical Description:

Despite the sharp glint in her black, almond-shaped eyes, and her proud, upright posture, any intimidation Araceli might invoke is somewhat negated by her stature. About a head shorter than your average mousemaid, and rather, well, tiny, "warrior" is not the word that springs to mind upon a first glance at Araceli. With a shorter sort of face, and wide cheekbones that tend to make her look younger than she is (especially in combination with the height factor), Araceli's features tread the line between pretty and adorable (the latter being a description she detests). Her fur is a soft, matte charcoal gray, with black "freckles" starting beneath her eyes, spreading out across her cheeks, and dotting the lower portions of her unusually large ears. (Seriously. They're big. Dibbuns could practically use them for shade!) She also has an uncommonly long, thick tail to match her ears. Between the tail and the deep gray of her fur, some wonder if Araceli doesn't have a rat somewhere back in her ancestry, but Araceli wouldn't be the one to know.

Now, Araceli does start to look more like a warrior once you look at her wardrobe. Unless she's hung it up for the night (and not even then, sometimes), you won't see her without her weathered, rust-colored cloak. With a hood, and two brass buttons that attach over her left shoulder, the cloak can become a makeshift shelter, covering Araceli entirely, save for her nose. However, it can also be buttoned back for nicer days. The garments beneath the cloak are basic and practical: a dark brown jerkin worn over a beige, belted tunic. Small gold and silver piercings are scattered up and down the length of both ears, but ever her left ear she wears a bronze hoop, attached to which are three feathers: a small, downy tan one, a slighter larger brown one speckled with white, and a long, tapered one, colored brilliant blue, probably once belonging to a jay. Araceli's also not to be seen without her weapons, indeed, she would consider it something of an embarrassment to be parted from them. A simple, but serviceable sword is kept strapped to her back, and a dagger of similar make is always comfortably close at paw on her belt. And then, there is the halberd. Unlike the sword and dagger, it is a thing of craftsmanship; created with a sense of artistry, not merely purpose. The weapon is taller than Araceli, is also adorned with a pair of feathers, and its presence in her paw lets everybeast know that she is not a mouse to be trifled with.

Belongings:

A traveller for much of her life, and a survivalist for all of it, Araceli travels light, but knows better than to be unprepared. Aside from her cloak and clothing, Araceli possesses a hip-slung pouch, large enough for her basic needs: flint, steel, and tinder, a small satchel of various herbs for healing (nothing too complex), a couple bits of cloth to serve as bandages, a length of rope, and a water-tight cloth bag for long stretches away from fresh water. And, finally, a pipe, along with a pinch of tobacco. Everyone has their vices.

As a warrior, Araceli has a fairly wide range of weapons with which she is proficient, but she keeps three with her at all times: the sword (across her back), the dagger (on her belt), and the halberd (her favorite weapon, as well as walking stick, makeshift assistant in climbing rock faces and the like, and tool of intimidation).

Personality:

With a serious demeanor and a studious mind, Araceli has a sharp tongue she knows well how to hold, although she does occasionally give in to her more petty desires. Especially when it seems like the victim of her wit had it coming. On the whole, Araceli comes across as someone who knows what she's doing, most likely because she does. Capable and confident, she takes responsibilities very seriously, and has very little patience for incompetence or tomfoolery (both of which she has broad, rather unforgiving definitions of). She had to grow up quickly, and doesn't always understand that not every other creature grew up that way. Thus, Araceli is frequently guilty of being harsh and unsympathetic. Sometimes she realizes it and apologizes. Sometimes she doesn't. At least she can never be accused of not being straightforward. Araceli avoids dishonesty whenever she can, though past experiences have rendered her an uncannily skilled liar.

On the more positive side, however, Araceli's sternness does stem from good intentions. She thinks of herself as a protector of pretty much anyone weaker than herself. As far as Araceli is concerned, the fact that she is still alive and possesses the warrior's talents that she does, is a gift; one that was only worth receiving if she uses it to be a shield to others. Unsympathetic though she may be, Araceli is intensely caring, and hates to fail anyone (or think that she failed them). So, while her words can sometimes be cruel, Araceli is never selfish. She puts others before herself, always, and gets grumpy and defensive if said others try to turn attention or priorities to her. Some might say it's a cover for being bashful. Araceli says it's just because she's fine and doesn't have the time for nonsense.

This facet of (over)protectiveness does attest to Araceli's better nature. Which, despite her constant exasperation, snippy remarks, solemn countenance, and tendency to wander off for thoughtful, solitary contemplation (meaning she's so annoyed she can't even speak), Araceli does, in contrast to popular opinion, have a softer side. Or rather, soft spots. Though she'd admit it only begrudgingly, she loves holidays and celebrations, finding the revelry, while silly, to be charming. She also has a fondness for dibbuns. Of course, she has a hard time not being too hard on them, as she is on everyone else. But if you're sneaky, you can catch her playing with them, and even smiling, an otherwise unprecedented occurrence.

Araceli's taciturn approach to life also extends to combat... for the most part. On the whole, she's a fairly stoic warrior, preferring strategy and skill to brute force. It's actually something of a necessity: Araceli simply doesn't have the muscle required for baser tactics. She's strong enough for her size, but again, she is just one very small mouse. But, while light on her footpaws, Araceli doesn't shy from planting herself and facing down her enemies. Although, that's usually when Araceli's comrades start to get worried. Cool-headed in battle as she is, Araceli does have a snapping point, and staying in one place, standing firm against the onslaught, while brave, is also a sign that she's approaching that point. And once she's snapped, her whole demeanor changes. Switching from calm and deliberate, Araceli turns to a fierce and ruthless fighter. Also, a reckless one. When she's overcome, Araceli doesn't seem to recognize danger, and possibly even thrives on it. Of course, it takes a lot to push Araceli there (usually, it involves overwhelming odds and possibly people she cares about being in danger), so "berserker" Araceli only appears in dire situations.

The last bit of her personality that is of particular import, is that Araceli is notoriously cagey when it comes to discussing her past. After infuriating verbal fencing, most just give up and let her be. She has good reason. After all, a mouse like her is not the product of a blissful life, and she feels there isn't reason to introduce the concept of such things to goodbeasts who have no reason to know. It's an act of compassion on her part, although she doesn't realize that the self-isolation isn't really needed. But then, Araceli never has been good at accepting help, and confiding in someone falls slightly too close to it. Still, she can't hide some big hints to her background, such as her varied and unique skills, her knowledge of combat, and a certain disdain (read: hatred) for authority when it's mishandled.

As a side note, Araceli is mostly well-spoken, some slightly rougher pronouns aside, but she does slip into a corsair-like cantor from time to time, especially when she's particularly annoyed, or alternatively, very relaxed (or tipsy).

Strengths

- Battle: A fighter all her days, Araceli can more than handle herself in the fray, from the use of a wide array of weapons, to strategy, to command, if it's needed.

- Responsibility: Araceli does what she says she will, and doesn't shy from accountability. Also, as stated above, she considers herself responsible for the safety of others. There are very few lengths she won't go to in order to protect not just those she cares about, but anyone unable to protect themselves (and sometimes even those who can).

- Quick-minded: Able to think and process rapidly, Araceli picks up new skills with relative ease. Thus, she has a lot of useful talents, and is comfortable learning from both books and hands-on experience.

Weaknesses

- Harsh: The world hasn't shown Araceli much kindness, so she's not great at showing it either. While actions speak louder than words, Araceli doesn't always understand, or sometimes even care, that her words do still hurt those around her, regardless of how noble her actions might be. In fact, she can be downright cruel, and she's not always the best at apologizing.

- Haunted: Araceli's unpleasant past lends her many unfavorable traits that she can't seem to shake. It makes her distant, and either unwilling or unable (or both), to ask for help. The past that haunts her also shows through in her occasionally ruthless, if necessary, decisions. She's not big on second chances.

- Self-Flagellation: Enormously regretful, Araceli has a rather self-abusing disposition. While she acts proud, she almost seems to be looking for opportunities to prove to herself that she's a horrible creature. She can also lean a bit hard on the habits of smoking and drinking, though she doesn't make a spectacle of it, so most wouldn't notice. Again, she hates to draw attention, especially in the form of concern.

History:

From out past the Tall Rocks along the Northern Shores, Araceli was born into a hard, uncompromising land, breeding hard, uncompromising beasts. Araceli didn't know her parents, which might sound sad to some, but to Araceli, it's a blessing. Corsairs raid up and down the Northern Shores constantly, and Araceli was one of many captives taken when she was very small. She doesn't remember her family, or if they lived, and she's grateful. This way, it's only a mystery, rather than another source of pain. That, and not knowing lends itself to providing a kernel of hope that they might still be alive and well somewhere.

Regardless of parentage, in her childhood, Araceli never felt sorry for herself. The pirate raids were a simple fact of life, and Araceli decided, before her could even entirely speak, that she was not going to be just another casualty. As young as she was, there was a fire in Araceli that pushed her to do more than just survive. It started as a hatred for the corsairs that took her, but she grew to understand that they were also the key. She would have to earn the corsairs' respect, and she would have to be useful. So, as she labored under the whips and barbed words of the corsairs, Araceli paid attention, and learned to learn quickly. She picked up on being cold and calculating, and to not let concern for others stop her from climbing the ladder. Whenever an opportunity to put down or fight another captive came, she took it, especially when in view of her captors. Once the other slaves started to think of her as another vermin, the corsairs started to take notice.

Brought before the captain of the ship, a big, brawny searat with a vicious temper and ambition, Araceli was tested. They pitted her against other slaves, and eventually, embittered members of the captain's own crew. Once she had proven both her skill, and her willingness to do whatever it would take, Araceli was taken under the captain's wing, in a twisted sort of way. At first, she was taught to fight. Her ferocity served her well, and she was something of a bodyguard to the captain. Not to be outdone by anyone, Araceli was keen to demonstrate her quick mind as well, picking up tasks such as navigation, and some on-to-go doctoring for wounds obtained from the corsairs' many skirmishes. While she didn't receive shares of the loot, being a mouse, and still technically a slave, the captain did gift her with one particular piece: a halberd of fine make. It was clear that Araceli had earned the position she held, and while she was resented for it, not many of the crew wanted to cross the merciless mousemaid. However, her focus remained to make herself invaluable, nothing else, and she kept her head down when it came to the convoluted politics of corsairs.

However, Araceli couldn't stay unnoticed forever. The ship she was on was part of a fleet, all under the command of one pirate lord, Avarice Oroan, a stoat of some notoriety. The captain of Araceli's ship, unbeknownst to her, had his sights set on overthrowing his employer. But Avarice hadn't climbed to the top by being oblivious. His spies heard whispers of treachery, and brought them to him, as well as word of the captain's peculiar but talented right paw. One night, his agents snuck aboard the ship, taking Araceli hostage. Avarice gave Araceli a choice. She could kill the captain, using his trust of her to get close enough to do it, or she could be thrown overboard into the raging sea. Araceli took the former option. She hadn't come that far just to die, and besides, what did this captain mean to her anyway?

A bit, it turned out. Drugged and in a stupor by Araceli's paw, the captain wouldn't even know who had betrayed him before he died. Araceli sat near for some time, unable to finish the job. Despite the fact that this was the rat, unabashedly evil, who'd raided her home and enslaved her. "Home" was now just a distant, faded memory. And in his own way, he'd cared for her. Quivering from fear and regret, it was the first time Araceli felt the pang of remorse that would eventually shape her entire life. At that point, however, it wasn't enough to stop her. Araceli returned to Avarice, paws bloodied, and with the captain's treasured silver dagger as a gift to her new master.

From there, Araceli's reputation grew. She was known as Avarice's personal assassin, ruthless enough to even kill her own captain at his command. Avarice intended to expand his territory, and Araceli was one of his most useful tools. Her talent for navigation turned out to be just as effective by land as by see, and she often lead raiding parties seeking out new targets. It seemed no outcropping or shelter was hidden from her, nor any supply of resources. "Pathfinder" was often how she was referred to, becoming her second name.

Despite her infamy, however, Avarice was never foolish enough to completely trust Araceli. He knew she'd been a slave, and one willing to kill for her own gain. While Araceli might have led the raiding parties themselves, Avarice never placed her in charge of the actual raids, instead sending along another officer to do the job. Araceli witnessed some truly terrible things, and simply stood by and let them happen. Somewhere in her struggle to become something, she had lost sight of the real villains, and it seemed like any care she'd ever had for anybeast but herself was long crushed. But inside her, something was growing. It had been since she'd killed the captain.

As seasons passed, Araceli found herself doing things she couldn't explain. When she lead the raiding parties, they would conveniently arrive too late to capture anyone. She'd flinch when she saw a slave struck. When Avarice and all his men feasted joyously on the spoils, Araceli found it hard to eat, let alone laugh with them.

It came to head on one raid that arrived in time. As Araceli watched the corsairs surround and bind the captives, Araceli found herself having glimpses of memory, of the same thing happening to her. It was like the blood in her veins was slowly beginning to boil. Trying to get away from the feeling, she wandered off through the little shacks, trying to see if she could find anything of interest. She did. Opening the door of one little dwelling, she found a pack of dibbuns, huddled together. They were about the age Araceli would have been when she was taken. And suddenly, Araceli found herself thinking of all the terrible things she had done, and the hurt she had caused, and how, if she let the corsairs take them, these little ones would grow to do the exact same things. Something in Araceli broke.

Telling the dibbuns to stay inside, and quiet, Araceli went back out to the raiders. The feeling of her blood boiling had become almost unbearable. And she would never be able to say exactly what happened next. Bearing her halberd in one paw and sword in the other, she went for the officer first. What followed was a whirl of violence that ended with the raiding party "dispatched", or running for their lives, and the no-longer-captives bewildered. coming back to herself, Araceli gathered her wits quickly. Freeing the other creatures and retrieving the dibbuns, Araceli told them that they needed to move, and quickly. The ones who escaped would be back with reinforcements, and by then, they would need to be gone. The little "tribe", mostly mice and a few squirrels, with a small family of moles, were confused by the corsair mouse helping them, but there wasn't enough time to question her motives. They escaped, fleeing east, towards someplace the creatures called the Mossflower Woods, in which was an abbey, where everybeast was accepted, and safe. Araceli found it hard to believe such a place existed, but when the group invited her to come, Araceli realized she really didn't have anyplace else to go. She couldn't go back and defeat Avarice all on her own, as much as she would have liked to. If this abbey existed, it could be a good place to rest, and come up with her plan. And, her skills as a warrior and pathfinder would make her a useful guardian to the little band. Pledging to protect them, Araceli accepted their offer, and accompanied them on their journey to Redwall Abbey.

Code Words: Tears Trifle

[Treble Tiderunner]

Wonderful! Welcome to the site, I look forward to writing with you!

Accepted!

At the moment, Redwall is at peace, but I plan to shatter that peace soon, and I know they'll need a champion then.