Character Sheet for Saorlaith
Nickname(s)
Serla, Saorlaith of the Wastes
Species
Skvader (reskinned Protector Aasimar)
Character Description
A druid from a deadly wasteland inhabited by all manners of horrors and monsters, on a personal quest to find a way to cure her homeland. While herself being stricken with the very same blight; nuclear radiation.
She travels with her husband, the carefree and jovial Trouble, making sure to do good deeds and smell every single flower on the way!
Also, her name is pronounced "SER-lah"
Personality
Saorlaith is a soft spoken person who values the balance of life. The lands she grew up in were a notoriously harsh and difficult place to live, all wildlife consisted of monstrosities and abberations, and even the food and water were toxic to ingest unless properly cleansed first. This has made her a creature with well ingrained habits, such as cleansing her food before eating and making sure to sleep with a light on at all times.
This is also why she's so absolutely enamored with all life outside Palover. At home, one can't simply stop to watch a fuzzy little bee looking for nectar in a flower, as either of the two can at any moment grow into a hideous monster and attack you.
But now she takes any chance she can to appreciate the plants and wildlife around her, finding joy in even the smallest and mundane things.
Background/History
Saorlaith tries to greet the world with kindness and optimism, finding beauty and joy in all the smallest of things. Blooming flowers, a pleasant scent in the wind, the sound of a fresh water creek.
After all, considering where she comes from, one truly needs to search hard to find the little glimmer of light that makes life worth living.
She comes from a land called Palover, but it is more known to the outside world as the Poison Wastes.
It is an area seemingly devoid of life; the very earth is toxic as plants just cannot grow. The few who does, grow twisted and weak.
All the water is foul smelling and toxic at best, pure acid at worst.
And then there's the wildlife...
Monsters and horribly malformed abberations stalk the barren landscape. Nights are dangerous for any who would dare to venture out, for the creatures that lurks in it does not discriminate between possible prey.
The Poison Wastes is like a pocket into one of the rings of hell. A truly corrupted realm.
The legend goes that during the cataclysm that wiped out the Old Ones, the Old Ones had learned how to tame and imprison a particularly dangerous type of magic.
Magic you couldn't see or feel, but was powerful enough to cause your body to rot and burn while you begged for death for days.
However, they eventually paid for their hubris when the magic broke free and seeped into the surrounding land. Cursing and poisoning the area for thousands of years to come.
Many have tried and failed over the millenias to remove the curse or purify the lands, but there seem to be no cure.
The few people who live there are known for being just as hard and ruthless as the land they live in, as well as unbelievably beautiful with vivid colorations.
The Paloverians don't take kindly to strangers most of the time.
Not just to protect themselves from possible raiders, but also to protect the outside world from the spread of the curse.
So with this being the place Saorlaith was born in, it is quite the wonder how she turned out so optimistic and friendly. For both better and for worse.
She has just always had a smile for everyone, and love for all the little things in life.
It is however this hopeless optimism that once nearly cost her her life, if it hadn't been for a certain dashing stranger...
The nightly curfew applies for all. Even the Mayor's daughter. (Mayor being the title the Paloverians chose to call their leadership figure)
Saorlaith ofcourse knew this and always did her best to return home on time. Except for this one night, when the mutations that stalk the Palover night found her first.
A swarm of hatchling neogis blocked her path. Normally these small fryes wasn't an issue for her, everyone in Palover is raised to know how to fight and defend themselves.
But being ambushed in the dark by ten times your number, did make things a lot harder.
In fact, Saorlaith quickly found herself on the losing side. If it hadn't been for a nearby traveler that had heard the commotion.
That's how she met Trouble.
Together they fended off the hatchlings and made a safe escape to Saorlaith's home.
To show gratitude for her safe return, Trouble was offered hospitality. As said, Paloverians don't usually welcome outsiders, but when they do it's usually as an act of gratitude and they will offer their guest anything they wish for in appreciation. Especially when it's the Mayor's own flesh and blood that was saved.
However, Trouble had accidentally declared what he "wanted"; Saorlaith had sustained a bleeding wound on her arm, and to assist her he had taken his scarf and given it to her to use as a wrap.
In Paloverian culture, a man handing a woman a personal item of theirs is a proposal for their hand in marriage.
And through bitterly clenched teeth, the Mayor gave his blessing.
Everything came as quite the shock for Trouble.
However, Saorlaith is quite fond of her husband, and happily joined in his adventures. Hoping to find the cure for Palover at the same time.
Relatives/Family
Her family is the equivalent of the royal family of Palover;
her father (the Mayor), mother, and three younger sisters.
World/Setting
The post-post-apocalypse world of our server's dnd world, loosely based off of
's world.
Body
Saorlaith is quite the eyecatcher; she's very beautiful and exotic with her mix of bird and rabbit features.
Her fur and feathers alike has a metallic sheen that shifts colors in the light, going between greens, blues and purples. She has grayish parts on the inside of her wings, breasts and face, and a white stomach and face.
Her eyes nearly seem to glow, and instead of a rabbit's tail she sports a fan of tailfeathers.
Oh, and then there's the wings. Shimmering in color, but she doesn't seem to use them much.
Clothing
She wears light clothing, a pair of chap-like legwear, off-shoulder top, and a splint mail loincloth whose splints are made from ironwood rather than metal.
A leather harness across her chest keeps her trusty shillelagh on her back, which she keeps around for self-protection.
