Post by Treble Tiderunner on Oct 12, 2013 20:12:35 GMT -6
Name: Enon McKie
Age: 29
Birthplace: Mossflower
Gender: Female
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Species: Red Squirrel
Job/Position: Warrior of the Long Patrol
Physical Description:
Age: 29
Birthplace: Mossflower
Gender: Female
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Species: Red Squirrel
Job/Position: Warrior of the Long Patrol
Physical Description:
Enon is of average height, lean and sinewy from a life at her chosen profession: War. And war has not left her unmarked, she has a collection of scars ranging from the long one that twists the right side of her face to little knife scars she earned at practice. Some run silvery through her fur, resisting regrowth of the black fur, others are small and hidden by fur.Belongings:
With strong facial features, Enon would be considered more handsome than pretty or beautiful, were it not for the wide scar that slices down her forehead, through her right eye, and ending at her chin. Faded with age, it is grey and raised, a stark reminder of battle's cost. With the scar, she is not a pretty sight, and she knows it. A deeply buried self-conciousness keeps her turning her head slightly to hide it, something she justifies by being necessary for her to adjust her sight. Her eyesight is not totally lost, but is rather dim. She does not like having beasts on her bad side. Her mouth twists on the right where the scar tissue pulls it tight. Her eyes are dark brown.
Long a soldier, Enon took to heart the lessons she learned in the Long Patrol and keeps her appearance neat and tidy. Her thick black fur and clothing may be dusty from the road, but that's life. What would be unacceptable would be walking around muddy or greasy, as if she didn't have a care in the world. It is carriage and intent that is important.
She is a quiet squirrel, but that hides an intense, focused being. It is apparent by her demeanor and actions that she knows just what she is doing. Her posture and movements convey her intensity and focus, providing a base of competence for those around her.
A braided necklace that holds a large polished amber as its centerpiece, a green stone, a quiver-full of arrows and her short bow. Other items include a long dagger she wears at her waist, a canteen and a small haversack that contains necessities and a much-read book.Personality:
Enon's quiet mannerisms can be quite deceptive at times, this squirrel has much more depth than a short glance can tell. She is a deeply private creature, keeping her past, present and future on short leashes, even among friends. Enon favors short and honest speech over longer palavering, but harbors an ability to mimic other creature's speech and mannerisms in her talk.History:
She has always known what path she would take in life, since her early teens when she arrived at Salamandastron. She is a fierce warrior and intense in her performance of her duties. She can focus on a task to the exclusion of things outside her sphere, an ability that has as often proved to her disadvantage as to her favor.
Of a good intelligence, Enon loves to read what little books that are available to her. She has a streak of humor, even if it doesn't always align with that of those around her. Enon's common sense is fully functional, as is her sense of sarcasm. She doesn't always say much, but what she says will count.
Enon is restless in one place and under authority, which is why she left the Long Patrol years ago. She loves travel and the freedom it brings. She rarely travels over large bodies of water, being terrified of the depths.
Enon is a fairly good archer by dent of long practice, and can be expected to hit her target spot on the majority of the time.
Mimicry is one of Enon's talents, a skill that can sometimes be useful to puzzle friend and foe alike.
As with the majority of squirrels, Enon's treewiffling skills (and her balance and dexterity) are not to be sneezed at.
Weaknesses:
Enon has only been known to cross a large body of water once, and she was unconscious at the time. She has an irrational fear of deep, dark water, and avoids it at all costs.
She is also claustrophobic, and panics in closed spaces.
She can become very focused, and while this gets the job she is focused on done, this provides plenty of opportunity for things to go awry-- falling out of trees and being attacked by enemies on the list.
Born in the summer, Enon’s parents were two wandering squirrels. They were both tinkerers when the mood struck, and often could be found using their skills to survive on the road-- get a place to sleep for a night, earn a week’s provisions. Her father was from Noonvale, her mother from a travelling merchant family. It was a simple, good life.
When Enon was ten, her mother died over the winter of pneumonia. At the abbey for the harsh winter, they buried her there and left in the spring. Even then it was hard to stay in one place. Not even her mother’s grave could keep the small family from wandering. Three years later her father was dead also, killed by bandits. Enon hid in the trees as the bandits looted her father’s body, taking his tools and some paltry items from his haversack, as well as what food they had and his dagger.
After doing her best to bury her father, Enon struck north for Salamandastron. They had visited there rarely, but she found the way. She didn’t want to be so helpless again. The hares were reluctant but the squirrelmaid struck a cord in the old badgerlord so she was taken in. It wasn’t long before she started learning. She received rudimentary training in how to use a sword, how to throw daggers accurately, how to use a bow, how to use pole-arms and a sling. Her family had been peaceful travelers, and that had not ended well for them. So she was determined to learned the arts of war as well she could.
As she grew older, she was accepted as a recruit. She trained with a regiment of hares, lived and ate with them, and even went to battle with them.
She received the scar on her face during a battle with sea pirates who were determined to become land pirates. She was twenty-two years old, and had been fighting with the hares for five years. She was fighting dagger against dagger with a stoat when he brought his dagger down across her forehead, through her eye, and finally her cheek. He barely scratched her forehead and eye compared to her cheek wound, which almost scraped her cheek bone and jawbone. She lost a lot of blood, and the end of the battle is a blur to her. She doesn’t even know what happened to the stoat.
Her cheek had to get stitches, and that whole half of her face was covered in bandages for almost a season. The greatest concern was the eye, and they were all greatly relieved when she still had some vision in it.
Not long after that, she bid goodbye to her friends at Salamandastron and resumed her travelling.
She barely stayed in one place a season after that, always moving on. One year she travelled south to Southsward, meeting and making some friends there. Occasionally she comes back to Salamandastron, and she is always available to help a hare in trouble. They are her new family-- and she doesn’t forget that.