Seleste Talyn's page

Seleste has spent her entire young life in between the Rostland and the wilder Stolen Lands to the south. This time was spent between her two families, the bucolic farm her parents carved out of the wilderness and the cairns that housed generations of scholars and soldiers that seemed drawn to her...and her to them.

She was born on a small secluded farmstead in what was known as South Rostland, but on a map would be marked as the edge of the Stolen Lands. Her Human mother was a healer and an herbalist that grew rare herbs for trade in Rostov. She was proud of Seleste's knack at following her trade, and would often take her daughter when visiting surrounding farmsteads while delivering healing medicines or checking in on sick neighbors. Seleste learned of Gozreh and the wildness of nature at her side. Seleste's brother Eran, though, took after their father, an Elven frontiersman, who maintained the family homestead and always had a grand story of great warriors and lost magics. His bow was blessed by an Erastil priest and he used it to great effect.

It always fell to Seleste to trail after her little brother to ensure he didn't get into too much trouble as he sought to recreate their father's stories. They shared a medallion, the prize of all their adventures. Father said it was Elven and very old, the hand and star of Findeladlara. One day on their adventures, a storm caught them far afield. Seeking shelter in the sheets of blinding rain, they came upon a small opening in a hillside. It was an opening she had not seen before, despite having played on this hill many times...it was as if the vegetation parted in response to their need.

They found the cave was not empty, and in fact not a cave, ot was a crypt; dusty swords, armor, and helms sat on stone platforms barley visible in the gloom. Eran was quick to grab a sword and struggle to give it playful swings, but the leather tome is what drew Seleste. She opened it to find puzzling diagrams and cryptic equations. As she poured over the pages, she didn't notice the spectral figures rise up around her, nor her brother faint from the unnatural chill. It was thus that her second family made themselves known to her. Drawn to her strong spark of life, the dead of what, in fact was a cairn, awoke from their rest. These spirits found her a willing and eager pupil as they taught her to read the book, revealing how energy courses through the land and can be channeled, but also warned how it needs to be kept in balance. She continued to read and learn while she stroked her sleeping brother's hair, unaware how long she spent in the dark chamber.

Because of the rain, it took their father, a skilled hunter, a week to track them to a low hill. He felt a chill as he looked up at the standing stones on its crest. Searching about, he hacked at the thick vegetation covering what seemed to be a portal stone. Once the stone was pried aside, he crawled inside to find Seleste sitting calmly surrounded with mounds of shredded rotten parchment and her comatose brother in her lap. He had to shake her to break her from a trance, before she recognized he was there to rescue them. She looked around puzzled...where had the old elves disappeared to?...why was her brother so cold?

Her father gathered up his near dead son and led his daughter back into the light. That is when he first saw the changes...her hair had gone bone white...she brushed her brother's sleeping face and color came back into his cheeks, but similar blush never returned to her face.
They returned to the farm, but a sense of normalcy never did. Eran's health always remained frail. Despite her wain appearance, Seleste seemed to suffer no physical effects, but she always seemed distant and distracted, as if following things that no one else could see or hear.

Seleste's mother noticed the growth in Selestse's skill and knowledge in crafting remedies and finding new herbs. She also noticed the fireflies that tended to gather around her. Her father, having seen the inside of the cairn that she had disappeared into, suspected more, including knowing that quietly, it was pyreflies that trailed her daughter, the fae spirits of lost souls unable to move on in death. They offered no harm, so he did not over worry his wife in pointing this out.

Seleste was always quick to finish her chores and spend her free time wandering the lands around their farm, or to take new routes to deliver herbs to familiar farmsteads. Her eyes were always sharp to find fallen stones, old foundations, or forgotten grave markers. At such locations, she would take the time to pull away obscuring weeds and vines while dropping in a few wild flower seeds, hoping to bring a little life back to these forlorn reminders of earlier days.

On these trips, Seleste would have to keep an eye out for bandits. Spotted soon enough, she could always run back home to the protection of her father and his strong longbow. The occasional bandit never posed a threat to her father. But of late, bigger groups have been reported by neighboring farms.

Then came the day she spied a large band between her and home. Never had she seen a group so organized. She had to divert around as the group passed. It was not until she came upon her home did she realize what had been the reason for so large a group. She came upon a dead bandit first, pierced with a familiar fletched arrow. Then another and a third. Ahead she saw no movement, just more dead men leading her to her home. She picked up the pace as an unsettled feeling fell over her.

A cloud of pyrflies rose from the grass and obscured her vision. It seemed to her, the motes of light meant to prevent her continuing, but she had to know.....she waved them aside and entered what had been her home.

A stunned Seleste left the farm hours later in the middle of the night. She had buried her family by moonlight, and now walked away with a few scavenged possessions. With the moon set, a faint trail of lights lit her way, but she knew the way. Where could she go now, but to to those that took her in once before. She knelt at the dark opening and felt the cool air breathing out. In the dim light, she could not see the standing stones that she knew loomed above her, but she could feel their presence....their strength and protection.

Inside she found the learned elves, once great warriors and scholars, who have patiently awaited the return of the one they could pass on their legacy. Weapon skills, albeit with archaic weapons and armor, magic sigils and symbols, and history of earlier times were all drilled into their receptive student. They spoke of wars against Cyclopses and their Giant allies, travels through the First World, and warnings of the attention of things beyond. But perhaps the most important lesson the spirits taught her was how to find and follow the Land's lay lines and use them to find other cairns and stone circles. They taught her how to harness the hidden power residing in a lay line and use it to fuel the Land's magic within herself.

The several years she spent mostly underground, the bandits in the Stolen Lands only grew stronger. With all farmsteads sacked and pillaged, the bandits, lacking easy pickings, turned from preying on the living to robbing the dead. While out exploring for a distant carin, Seleste returned to find the cairn ransacked. Their resting place disturbed, the spirits lost their connection to the cairn and the standing stones...she was alone again.

Seleste, bereft of her second family, set off for Restov. Bandits had taken everything from her, but she knew she could not get revenge on her own. She knew she could find others, also interested in breaking the hold the bandits have established on the Stolen Lands....her home. She wore three medallions of Gazreh, Eriastil, and Findeladlara to lead the way.

It was only later that she learned the Elf spirits lost their home but didn't lose her...in fact she kinda wished they had. Over the weeks that followed the spirits seemed to find her and join her in what has become an annoying entourage of advice givers and nay-sayers that only she seems to see and hear...lucky her. But on occasion they can prove useful if she can hold onto her sanity long enough to see it through.

Seleste's Half-Elven blood gives her a young appearance despite her 40 years. Tall and willowy, her thin frame hides a strength gained from working on the farm and of late, swinging a large sword and shield. Further hiding her frame is the archaic armor covered in scrollwork designs, that match similar sigils on her shield and leaf-bladed sword, all in a style long out of current favor.
Seleste's pale skin and hair give her an offsetting appearance compounded by large pale blue eyes and her proclivity to stare. She has a serious demeanor that some find hard to take serious from the young lady in over-sized armor and large sword, but when they get a sense of her determination, they knew she is always serious but has a kind soul...it is just she is more at ease with the dead and those not quite of this world.

Seleste would be most interested in the Councilor role, seeing that the needs of the people are being met. Secondly she would be interested in Marshall doing patrols of the land and seeing where trouble my be brewing. She would be interested in the High Priest if the Green Faith is revered in the land or at least Gozreh or Erastil.