Halfling Ramblings

The image above of a bridge is a grand way to show an ‘About’ for a halfling such as me. On that bridge stands a halfling who is caring, motherly, full of laughter, full of sympathetic tears… or tears of joy *smiles*. She loves easily any who have a sense of honor and value friendship, and loves deeply a very select few who work their ways deeper into that heart with their wonderful personalities and who become life long friends in her mind. But as she looks down into the water you see other reflections there than just Briarthorn. As you gaze downward at her reflection you see her image blur for a moment and suddenly turn to six strongly seen images, with a hazey image of a few others standing behind those six. All stand together and most of them hold hands, seeming almost to be all one, even though in looks and personalities they are very different.

Next to Briarthorn stands Biannca, a small mouse of a ratonga, who seems… timid. She looks over her shoulder often at the other unseens of the landscape, as if terrified of something. She hunches in on herself a bit at strange noises and shadows unseen, but when Briarthorn links her arm through hers more thoroughly  you see her chin rise and you see the happiness and pride and bit of courage that hide under her surface come out from time to time.

Next to Biannca with her hand upon mouse’s head stands a tall slender kerran of multicolors. Bastette’s  calico fur of reds and whites and chocolates seems to carry music within its pelt. Her jaw is proud, and her stance seems to say SEE ME! Briarthorn smiles at her in pride and loves very much this exotic and wild piece of herself that she can never be. Well, never say never…  *winks* She shares Briarthorn’s love of musics and prefers much the fun things in life that make her purr and chortle with life, at the same time singing songs of darkness that reflect much on shadowy pieces of her past that caused her to be reborn as a Dirge.  

Beyond Bastette stands a tall, proud high elf. Issabeau’s age and beauty disguise her long life and wealth of knowledge of the history of the lands as seen by the High Elf Nation. Her laughter is rare, but rich in tone, and her use of words can baffle even gnomish inventors when she gets into a history lesson or lengthy debate *laughs* To get her started on the proud history of her own family is to hear the stories of her father, Lord Beoman, and her mother, Lady Hostia, and how Beoman gave his life to save their guild and Norrath from destruction. Appearance and grooming mean much to her, so you will chuckle to yourself if she complains of a broken nail or dirty robe. *smiles*

Beyond Issabeau, standing slightly apart but yet not away from the group is a beligerent looking half elf. Ctaaj’s attitude and crossed arms present a challenge to anyone who approaches, as if she’d rather chew or slice someone into pieces than talk to them. A very very few have ever worked their way past that exterior, most of which have now died to some blade, to age, or otherworldly events. She walks alone in this world, cursing often at the mixed blood body she must wear in this realm in agreement with her Godess’s Choice at the time of the Shattering. But she follows the Way due to a promise to Tunare and to Briarthorn, although with a very sarcastic wit and jaded outlook. To her? Honor and Promises are everything within Truewatch’s boundaries.

Standing apart from them all, but within the same reflection is an odd sight. Sakphul’s white hair and dark armor contrast sharply with her Halfling Form. Her blade seems to drip a poison, and her gaze seems to take in all the other solid forms within the reflection and…. sneer at them. Very little is known about this dark piece of the reflection, even by the others within it. Though watching long enough you will see Ctaaj looking quietly and unknown at the halfling, as if ready to stop her if needbe from whatever her goal is.