About Tal'ariel Rhuidon altTracked Resources: :
3rd: Fly, Haste, Haste 2nd: Glitterdust, Glitterdust, Web, See Invisibility 1st: Grease, Mage Armor*, Snowball*, Vanish, True Strike 0th: Acid Splash, Dancing Lights, Detect Magic, Read Magic Prescience: 6/7 character sheet:
Full Name Tal'ariel Rhuidon Her cat is named Cleo, short for Cleopatra. Race
Classes/Levels
Gender
Alignment
Strength 10
Equipment:
Diety
Alignment: Chaotic Good Domains: Plant, Animal, Magic, War Symbol: A bow and sword hanging from the eternal oak Garb: Shades of grey, green, hazel, chestnut and sable Favored Weapons: Longbow, longsword Form of Worship and Holidays: Eve of every midmonth during the summer Typical Worshipers: High and wood elves, warriors, wizards and rangers of the elven race. The father of all elves and firstborn of the race, Ilúvatiar is portrayed as a handsome elven man draped in a cloak of forest leaves. His skin may appear as gleaming white as birch bark, or any of the varying shades of brown and green found in primeval woodlands. Ilúvatiar has keen golden eyes like those of an owl. His sword and bow are said to never miss a target and slay those of evil intent instantly. DIALOGUE/DESCRIPTION:
It felt like a moment ago, but maybe it was a lifetime ago. She had gotten that look from a man. Tall, dark, handsome, probably a native to these parts unlike herself. Tal was usually the shy, quirky girl who was left out. It was hard to fit in when you were a Diviner, when you just knew that the thing your body wanted to do was a horrible, horrible idea. But he--what was his name again?--he seemed like so much fun. And so Tal downed the grog in front of her, asked for another. And another. That was the way she knew how to let it go. They talked, they danced, they kissed, they . . . what did they do next? Tal wasn't sure. And then, she ended up . . . where? Here? She looked around--no sign of the man. In a panic, she opened her Handy Haversack, but everything seemed to be there, meticulously organized in extradimensional space. At least she hadn't been robbed. But all the patrons were natives. She didn't even speak their language! And they all seemed a little weird. Or was that just the alcohol talking? She looked around some more. A bunch of dervishes had walked in. More natives--that didn't help. And then she saw her. A half-elf! With white hair! And a fantastical hat! Like her kin had magically arrived to save her from her own stupidity. Alright, Tal, you can do this. Incredibly, she takes another drink--to summon some more courage--quickly tries to fix her messy, sand-tangled hair, straightens her clothes, and finally stands, walking slowly, gingerly to the woman. "Um, hi miss, I couldn't help but notice how remarkable you are. Mind if I join you?" To remove any ambiguity, Tal is walking over to Ciri and trying to introduce herself. Wait, this is a real princess? As she listens to the apparent princess go on about her titles, Tal'ariel concludes that she is being totally serious. She returns the Princess's curtsy, clumsily, a bit unsteadily. "Oh, I hadn't realized you are royalty. It's an honor, um, Princes Cirilla?" She hoped she had picked the most impressive of the titles. "Really, truly an honor." She looks at the Princess, then a little bit under her, not wanting to meet her gaze. "I'm Tal'ariel Rhuidon. Um, daughter of Sythaeryn Rhuidon, a blacksmith? Probably wasn't supposed to be born, definitely wasn't supposed to learn magic, but . . ." she shrugs and trails off. She then realizes that her lowered gaze has landed on Ciri's bosom, and quickly turns to accept the wine that has been offered by a bartender. She sniffs it and sighs, could she really turn down such a delicious treat, even in her state? "Brother Dier, are you part of the Princess's holy guard?" she asks, trying to distract herself momentarily. Oh, this is just what I was hoping for! thinks Tal'ariel to herself. "Say, I got myself into an accidental pilgrimage of sorts." Which was a nice way of saying she'd gotten completely lost and came back to her senses in this tavern. "Do you think I could join your caravan? I can totally guard things. Yup, that's what I do." She takes a big gulp of the wine she had told herself she wouldn't drink.
Ratel Dier wrote:
Swallowing the ale in his mouth as he sets down the ale, he leans around the table, looking her up and down. Trying not to sound condescending he asks Tal'ariel, "Which do you find more effective against the local gnolls, the dagger or the sap?" Tal'ariel blushes and looks away, caught in an obvious lie. Right, holy man. Serious fellow. "Um, the dagger?" she replies eventually. "It's a nice dagger." Of respectable quality, even if she used it more for cutting food than enemies. "I know where to stick it to do real damage." Knowing was so much different than doing. "But the more important thing is that I know magic. I can slow them down and let folks like you get them! Usually I'm working with others, but I'm not sure what happened to my traveling companion." That was absolutely true. Where was that tall, dark, handsome fella she had been with? She starts looking around. "Oh, that thing?" she says, looking at her shortbow leaned up along a wall. "I mostly carry that to look more elven. Although real elven bows are bigger." She accepts some soup and gives up on looking around. She felt really confused about what she was looking for anyway. The stone teeth seem extremely weird to her, who ever heard of such a thing? Another reason not to trust these folk. She then looks to Princess Ciri. "Your Highness, would you be willing to trade some spell knowledge with me? I think you probably know a lot more than me, but I'm happy to offer what I can." Tal wakes up, memorizes her spells, and is excited for the day. It felt like she hadn't rested that well in ages. Her excitement quickly changes to panic when she finds out that the dervishes they had been guarding were gone. Along with the supposed caravan. "Oh crud, they just ditched us? What is wrong with these people? What are we gonna do now?!" As Felix calls out, Tal'ariel does a double-take. "Wait--Lucky Gits? Is that you? How did you--and I--" Tal walks up to the half-orc, grabbing his arms to make sure he would look right at her. "We were on shore. I was having a good time at the tavern, dancing with a tall, dark, and handsome man. Maybe having one or five too many drinks. Having a really good time. Next thing I remember, I'm here. What the hell happened? And aren't we also stranded here?" She turns back to the others. "He's with me. And he's very good with his sword," she says, gesturing to the longsword at his side. "Aha!" Tal'ariel seems to be happy with Felix confirming that her memory of events wasn't completely bonkers. "Well, here we are now in another mess. Better stick together so we don't get jumped by the locals." Ratel Dier wrote:
Turning to the two 'sailors' he asked, "While you were learning to tie knots did you happen to learn how to tickle locks?" "Brother Ratel, I'm not sure if I should be offended or flattered that you'd suggest such a thing." She jangles a chain of tools which seem to confirm that she could unlock the door. Tal spends several hours studying spells. I'm guessing we have at least 8 hours given that we spent the morning fighting.
Tal squints at Sir Rhaym, trying to figure out if he really was a Mitran. The way he talked though, and the way he acted, seemed to all line up. "I'm Tal'ariel Rhuiodon--Tal for short. Don't be fooled by the ring," she mentions, holding up a hand that seems like a relic. "I'm not actually a Mitran. But I sure don't want to get killed by these homicidal Set worshippers!" Discussion:
Quote: brvheart wrote:
Ciri Princess of Cintra wrote:
So, um, now that there are two rogues, do you want me to build something else instead right quick? I think this party could use a Bard. I could put it together really quickly, and she can still be a piratey type. Also, given what I already posted and how it might play out, I can't wait for Tal to figure out that she might have hooked up with Felix "Lucky Gits" Season. Quote ciri
Tal
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