War for Tirstario
Priscylla "Scylla" Maria D'Ason
What is an Elf when she is not an Elf?
Scylla is medium and lean. Like most High Elves, she has blond, thick hair falling down her back, yet unlike them, she has shaved the right half of her head and keeps it that way. Her eyes are a bright cyan and her skin is fair, if nicked by pink scars here and there. Her lips are full and bright red – she is a beautiful young elf, although her mischievous expression and half shaved head don’t fit in with the picture.
Scylla usually takes practical clothing over fashion. A plain white shirt, a leather corset and trousers and a wide belt to carry her weapons are what she usually wears. Soft boots for easy and silent movement, a small backpack with essentials and a pair of fingerless gloves complete the outfit. On each side of her hips she carries a longsword, both custom made to be light enough for her, and her most prized possessions. She wears no amulets, coats of arms of jewelry, although some do say she has a navel piercing.
Backstory Life wasn’t good for Scylla. Until she grabbed Life by the collar and made it behave.
She began her existence the daughter of a High Elven couple in a small community of Fellyn Woods. One night, when she was still a toddler, she was snatched from her crib by a human kidnapper, and taken South, to Orchant and away from the mainland, into Mares isles, where slavery is still widely accepted and practiced.
She had been kidnapped by the D’Ason – a human family who had built a fortune through the demise of others, in slavery. They catered especially to “rare” and “aesthetically pleasing” slaves – elves, gnomes or monsters – and very young slaves, who could grow up into a house and serve it for a lifetime. Still too young to be sold, Scylla stayed at the D’Ason warehouse for a year, and ended up being adopted by the D’Ason themselves. The couple’s female half, Lyria D’Ason, grew so attached to the little elven girl she could not bear to see her leave. She was baptized Priscylla Maria D’Ason and kept, not as a slave, but a part of the family – the D’Ason were then childless, and she was a nice addition to brighten up their life.
Growing up with the D’Ason, Scylla forgot her elven past. As she grew up with human custom and language, she forgot everything about her younger years, and came to accept Lyria D’Ason as her mother and the D’Ason house as her own. The D’Ason themselves were thrilled to have a child that remained a child for longer than usual, and who certainly would carry their name for many more generations than they could hope for with children of their own.
Eventually, however, the D’Ason did have a child of their own. Lamath D’Ason never much enjoyed having an older sister who in time was younger than him, and who had been pulled out of the “slave bin” to boot. As soon as Scylla’s adoptive parents died, he decided to right the wrong they had done. Still very young, Scylla was demoted from family member to house slave. Lamath had no mercy on the girl, who now had nobody to protect her, and treated her as badly as he could. As she grew up, and the abuse intensified, so did her revolt grow. Now among other house slaves, who has been her servants and now had become her equals, she waited for an opportunity to either leave or get even.
One day, Lamath got careless. His personal dagger was left where Scylla could reach it.
The next time he sent for her was his demise. Already a father of two and with one of the most well-known empires in slave trade, Lamath D’Ason sent for his favorite and she stabbed him in the neck. Losing no time, she made for the keys to her chains, stole a few of her mother’s jewelry and some money, and fled for the coast, buying both passage to the mainland and the silence of the sailors with what she stole. The only jewel she kept was her mother’s brooch. Once in the mainland, with nowhere to go and no means of defense, she sold the brooch for much less than it was worth – 70 GP. It would later in life become her personal joke that she bought her freedom for 70 GP. With this amount of gold, she made it to Central Malachant, and like many young runaways, joined the first guild she bumped into.
The Nameless Samarites were a guild of adventurers for hire, active in the town of Samarite. The guildies rented their services to parties who needed an extra sword, a healing hand, a caster’s services or a rogue’s lockpicking skills. Scylla bloomed among them. She learned how to fight, how to survive and how to make money. It was also only there that she realized what a freak she looked like to humans, but also to the elves, who were astonished there was a member of their species that not only knew nothing about her place in the world, but didn’t speak a word of the language. If it ever occurred to Scylla to seek out her biological parents, she never took action, but speaking to other elves, she began to realize that she was not exactly an Elf – or at least not Elf-like. Her quick wit, swift temper and lack of connection with the elven Gods or nature made her different, and many elves who met her were not completely sure if they should take her as a “fallen” Elf or not. Mocking these notions as she did everything else that bothered in life, she shaved half her head. Elves consider their long hair a symbol of the race itself, and the pride of an Elven individual. By shaving only half her hair, Scylla made clear to those she met that while she does not consider herself a renegade, she doesn’t consider herself a part of them either.
The Nameless Samarites disbanded about ten years after Scylla joined them, and by then she was able to fend for herself. She continued in the same line of work, renting her blade to those who could pay. Two or three years later, she was hired by a party Lager LeverPull was thinking of leaving. For reasons unknown, the gnome and the odd she-elf hit it off almost immediately. After her job was finished, LeverPull left with her, and they became partners, not only hiring their skill, but also robbing rich houses whenever stranded for money.
These days, the duo is in a difficult position. More and more, particular weapons for hire or minor thieves are joining guilds, seeking out allegiance for protection, trying to find some manner of security as a civil war threatens to break. LeverPull and Scylla, however, remain a duo and have refused to join any groups up until now.
Personality In her younger years, while serving the Nameless Samarites, Scylla had some issues concerning her race. She has learned to live in the rhythm of humans, and as she grew up and saw those around her age faster than she, she started to feel depressed and isolated. Meeting other elves brought no comfort: they were so different from her, she found she could never adapt back to them. She avoids the subject, because the only way she found to deal with it is mocking the notion, and ignoring it. Instead, she tries to establish as few bonds as possible, since they will either find her too odd, or wither and die in a blink of her eyes.
Growing up, Scylla has the education of a princess, which later degenerated into the makings of a slave, and then a mercenary. She has the posture and grace of a noblewoman, but can be as mischievous, tricky and nasty as the next rogue. Scylla is known for her hot temper and for preferring to solve problems by the blade than by parlay. When things bother her, she laughs at them first, hits them if needed, and then ignores them completely. She enjoys good swordplay and friendly sparring, an activity she doesn’t get to practice much, since her partner is not as good a fighter as she by far.
LeverPull is Scylla’s jewel. He is her best friend, partner in work, and the person she trusts the most. It’s very rare, if not unheard of, finding the duo apart. Scylla has had on-again off-again lovers, but when the day ends, LeverPull is the one who’s there. Other than caring for her own welfare, she looks after his as well, and will become a demon if something threatens or harms the gnome.
Because she was not raised like a proper Elf and never learned their History and customs, she doesn’t have the usual makings of the elves, acting more like a human woman who ages slowly. She has no enmity towards the Drow or the Dwarves, she has no particular connection to nature or the great outdoors, she finds history and tradition a tad boring and couldn’t tell the Elven language from Abyssal if her life depended on it. Religion, like everything else in the Elven culture that she finds she can’t adapt to even if she wanted, is comfortably ignored. Scylla curses at will, drinks as she pleases, and leads her life where she and LeverPull want.