"Lament" Duskbreeze's page

Talulah Duskbreeze was born to a Halfling harrow card reader. She was beautiful from birth just like her mother. Her rosy complexion and emerald green eyes combined with her head full of black hair set her apart from the other children who had been born to the gypsies for the past decade. Things were queer with the child though. As she grew from infancy to childhood, she did not act like all of the other girls. She had no desire to play with dolls or fix her hair. As a matter of fact, her hair was usually unkept and dirty. Instead of girly things, she wanted to play with worms and fool around with dead animal carcasses.

The other children kept their distance from the weird little Halfling. Talulah didn’t seem to mind though. She rarely even noticed that she was different. She became even stranger after getting a hold of a holy book of Pharasma during one of the caravan’s trips to Ustalav. She spent weeks reading and learning about the Lady of Graves. This got her interested more into the occult and she soon traded almost all of her possessions to get her hands on as much literature of Pharasma, the undead, and the afterlife as she could find. Departing from the common Varisian faith of Desna, Talulah was ostracized even more. While the other gypsy girls were getting colorful butterfly tattoos on their shoulders, Talulah was having her lips and eye lids tattooed in jet black ink to match her hair. By the time she was a teenager, her arms were covered completely with occultic imagines including skulls and the dead. Her mother was the only one who would treat her with kindness. She did have the gift of harrow reading though and apprenticed with her mother. This helped their awkward relationship. Her favorite hobby was playing her drum. She would sit by herself at night and practice for hours.

Her life took a major turn one night when her caravan was attacked on the way to Caliphas. A tree trunk had fallen in the road and several men were attempting to move it out of the way when dark figures began to drop from trees. Within seconds, a scene of absolute horror unveiled as hooded figures descended on the gypsies. With no apparent weapons, the hostiles tore flesh with their hands and fangs while moving around with supernatural speed and strength. Mesmerized, Talulah stood in awe at the scene. Instinctively, she began to tap her drum to a mournful rhythm. Surprisingly, she was not afraid. Instead, she was absorbed in the moment. When it came her time to die, she stared admiringly at the vampire spawn who was approaching. She continued to play her solemn tune as she awaited her turn to enter the afterlife. A voice interrupted her worship though…

Not zat one. zere iz zomething about her. A large male vampire stood over her covered in bloody flesh. With a fanged smile he added, Tiz a beautiful zong little one. He bent over and kissed the young halfling leaving the taste of her companions' blood on her lips and tongue. When she opened her eyes, the vampires were gone and Talulah was left standing alone in a lake of blood and body parts. She stood for what seemed like hours before collecting her possessions including her mother’s blood soaked harrow cards and beginning the long walk to Caliphas. She also took her mother decapitated head, which she later had the skull carved into a new drum.

The next few years were good in the big city. Between harrow reading and performing at funerals; Talulah, now known by the stage name Lament, had the means to live comfortably and study her passions: life, death, and the undeath that exists between the two. She was even more thrilled when she met an expert on the subject, Professor Lorrimor. He had approached her in Caliphas for a harrow reading. The professor took to the creepy little Halfling quickly and they developed a friendship. He would often have her come visit him and exchange his knowledge of the undead for a harrow reading and some of her mournful music. It was said more than once that the professor was as relaxed as anyone had ever seen him while listening to Lament’s songs. He would eventually become the only friend Lament had ever known, besides her mother.

When she received the summons to his estate, she feared the worst for the last time she had read the professor's cards the crow had turned up. She now packs for journey to his estate...

How do you know the Professor? Met him while reading his fortune with Mother's Harrow Cards.

How close was your relationship and for how long? As close as a recluse can get to a kind old man. My only friend. I have know the professor for about 5 years.

Why do you think, he chose to think of you among the many hundreds that he had worked with or had known? He trusted me because he knew that I was loyal. What you see, though it is rather shocking, is what you get.

Why are you in Ustalav? I live in Caliphas

Do you live here? Yes

What are you doing for a living ? Reading fortunes and playing my drums at funeral and wakes.

What drives you? What are your passions and what are your goals? To learn more about death and the existence that exists between the two. Provide others with a glimpse into their future through Harrow readings.

What do you fear? Nothing really

What do you hate? Holier than thou people who impress their values on others.

Do you have any secrets? <looks around and then whispers> My drum is actually my mother's skull. I ask her for advice.

What is your appearance and how do project yourself to others? I am 3'2 and weigh 42 pounds. I have a gaunt complexion like my mistress the Lady of Graves and have black tattooed around my eyes and lips. As a matter of fact, both of my arms are covered from shoulder to finger tips in death tattoos. I wear light leather armor, but it is covered with black, leather full length trench coat. I wear a black leather top hat. I also wear finger-less black gloves and black leather shoes whose toes curl up in the front to a point. I do not trust others and the seem to leave me alone until they need to know about their future. Sometimes they look at me funny for no apparent reason.

Finally come up with 2-3 personality quirks
1) I talk to my Mother's Skull which is now my drum
2) I am nosy with other peoples things
3) I have very little ability to read social clues and I often hurt people feelings with my bluntness