Basic Information Name: Tammy. Aliases: Tum. Gender: Female. Race: Lightfoot Halfling; prime. Age: Early twenties. Profession: Traveler, tourist, sightseer and botherer. Languages: Bits and pieces of many, but only enough concrete knowledge to properly speak Common, Halfling and Elven. Accent: Halfling sometimes slips into her Common, gentle accent implying it's her first language.
Physical Information Height: 2'9'' Weight: 28 pounds Body build: Just under average for her race; a little runtish. Skin type: Unmarred, but kept as concealed as possible. Hair style: Shoulder length in varying styles, always kept clear of her face. Scars: None. Â Â Coloring:
Hair: Sandy brown, butterscotch.        Eyes: Bright blue.      Skin: A natural, light tan.
Mental Information Alignment: Lawful Good, leaning much more towards Good. Philosophy: "Knowledge is vital. With proper understanding of each other and our shared experiences as thinking beings, friendly cooperation is always a possibility." Deity/Beliefs: Distracted by her journey abroad and unfamiliar with theology, she simply reveres her kin's pantheon. With more focus and time, she'll likely take to proper worship later. Â Â Additional Information Gear: Her practical outfits are immaculate, never seen torn or mussed for long, and tend towards earth tones and denim blues. She has magical bags of all varieties at her hip, filled with an excessive amount of writing implements, parchment and various nifty tools to help her untrained self remain alive. Habits/hobbies: Impromptu interviews and bothering others in general. Fishing poorly. Swimming skillfully. Reading; she delights in fiction and fairy tales, devours philosophy and informative works and has a passing interest in romance novels. General Health: Above average, rarely sick. Favorite Drink: Water or juice, not fond of alcohol. Weaknesses: It doesn't take much for Tammy to become paralyzed by indecision. The thought of inadvertently harming others with a poor decision is crippling and, despite having a high opinion of her own intelligence, she'll often think herself too ignorant on an unstudied matter to risk speaking on it else she might sway someone in the wrong direction. She must learn more and reconsider a problem again and again until it's likely no longer relevant. As a result, she does not perform well in a crisis and the thought of being put in a situation where she may have to take a life terrifies her.
The brutish human's mace nearly struck home! Despite only driving a heavy divet into the stone floor, the sheer shocking strength of the attack nearly rocked the blue eyed heroine off her feet. It takes two unbalanced backward steps before the diminutive figure balances herself out, arms aloft, but she proves irrepressible! With a hand cupped to her mouth she shouts in a cheery tone to the towering human warrior while he's busy pulling his weapon from a small, rocky crater, "C'mon, big guy. Do you really think you're special to her? You're not dumb. You've seen how she treats the rest of the folks that serve her."
The halfling's opponent was more than just bulk, he was fast too. He knew how to move with the weight of his weapon, and his next two swings both passed just over the ducking bardess' head. Breathing heavy now, she was really starting to struggle with the much more capable fighter's blows, and her commitment to talking him down wasn't doing her any favors. Again she shouts, "I've seen the way she treats you. Awful nice and all on the surface. But those command words she uses on the others? You think she doesn't have one for you? Gosh. You and me have even babbled before, but you don't recall a word do y-"
He cut her off with a lifted hand, stance relaxing. She heaved out a sigh of relief as she watched the human slip his signature weapon into a loop on his belt.
Oh.
The halfling's shoulders droop a little.
She hadn't noticed that each of the warrior's strikes had moved him subtly closer and closer still to the old armory's back table, and now a cocked hand crossbow was leveled straight at the famous heroine. But progress! Her foe speaks now, though he doesn't sound far from firing, "Back up slowly. Close and lock the door. Then take a seat and explain."
The noble bard only has to keep her foe talking until her inbound friends arrive, and if there's anything renowned adventurer Rozzie is best at, it's stalling!
--
A particular child can barely suppress her grin as her sharp eyes dart over the final words of this bookmarked chapter of Rozzie's Tales. Flopped comfortably beneath her bed, she snaps the small work of fiction shut and performs a lil' barreling roll along the carpeted floor of her cozy, oversized room. Her spirited wiggle ends, lazily calculated, with the girl prone at the foot of the enormous mirror inlaid in her closed, human-sized bedroom door. She stares into her reflection, meeting her own gaze, gawking proudly at the same bright blue eyes her hero has.
The eldest boy had short red hair, backlit and burning, and was armed with a grin that seemed to have too many canines when he loudly declared, "Razor sharp... teeth!"
Tammy leapt what felt like a foot in the air, then had hurriedly glanced to her left, hoping no one saw. Fortunately for her, the nearest girl had squeaked in a red-faced showing of fear, while the twins flanking her had opted to cover their eyes in unison. The crackling little camp fire seemed to rear up, flaring larger, as if the startled reactions of the small figures seated in a loose semicircle around it gave it fuel, the tallest among them perched closer to the group, flames simmering behind him. The forest clearing hardly seemed to need the wavering orange light, gleaming harvest moon overhead brightening the village's forested outskirts, but the moon can't suppress the chill of autumn.
The storyteller started again, "But one victim wasn't enough for him. He'd caught more than he could eat, and he was clever." ,and then trailed off into a slow breath, half of his usual grin at the ready. Some of the young audience leaned forward in their seats, while others reeled back. Tammy's fists were clenched, her blue eyes narrowed.
"So it's on nights like these, with there being just enough light to make out someone familiar, that you don't notice until you get close that it's just a peeled off... face!"
There was a collective flinch from the group of children, along with a quiet cacophony of squeals and gasps. But Tammy had jerked up and to her feet instead, scowling in a shaky combination of fear and resolve, facing down the eldest boy, then glancing about the rest of the little folks, "Then he needs to be stopped! We... we should tell the adults!"
The eldest boy scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. The out-of-towner girl had to be old enough to know better than this, he thought, maybe she was just trying to drum the story up? After all, the rest of the audience were now chattering at one another, frightened and excited, their voices hushed. Intentional or not, he decided, the rich kid's outburst had made the tale seem more real. He snorts out his reply, brows furrowed, "Adults just say he's a story. They say it's just folks getting lost, since there's never any bodies."
He barely had time to finish his retort before the girl blurted out her thoughts again, chin high and shoulders squared, strengthening resolve causing her balled up fists to remain clenched at her sides, "Then we'll stop him! He's... he's clever, but he's still just a goblin. And there's a bunch of us. And... and you know everything about him!"
The rest of the children tousle and chatter, louder now, building each other's confidence through a combination of halfling fearlessness and childishly morbid curiosity. The eldest entertainer of the bunch bides his time before replying, "I also know he only tries to chomp one person at a time. If he spots a crowd of us, he'll never show."
With no hesitation, blue eyes steeled and teeth sinking partway into her lip afterwards, she blurts out, "Then... then I'll be bait! We'll make as if we went back home, except I'll stay and the rest of you will hide. Then when he tries to eat me, we uhm. We get him.", her thought is finished with a strong nod. The chatter of bickering children rises again, but now directed and encouraged by the grinning eldest boy as well. The group is not wholly united, many of the youngest bullied into compliance with accusations of cowardice, but soon the fire is put out. Sticks of varying sizes are brandished as weapons, make-believe shortswords and maces, the twins committing two sets of hands to bracing a branch they've deemed a spear.
In the end, the visiting outsider's bravery left her seated at the base of a tall oak, the barren branches somehow much more jagged and foreboding in this dim light, but leaving her with a view of the star pocked sky. She'd stood at first, and for some time, but a combination of wobbly legs and a certainty that she'd look like more vulnerable of a target if she were knelt had quickly changed her mind. As far as she was concerned, her resolve was steady, but the forest was becoming darker.
The other children weren't perched and poised all that far from her position, slunk down a few trees over or crouched down in nearby underbrush. It was a small comfort to know they were nearby, waiting to strike, and the thought of snuffing out firelight hadn't been as frightening a proposition in the beginning, but doubts were beginning to gnaw at the thoughts of every shivering halfling. All it took was the sudden, distant howling of a lost wolf to firmly shake the morale of the scattered party. Sensitive to the tiniest noise from that point on, Tammy had winced with each rustle and shift of foliage nearby, certain most of it was the innocuous shuffling of her new friends, but dreading the possibility of creeping threats other than the one they'd all planned to face down.
A creeping spread of clouds were all it took to throttle the sickly orange circle overhead, suddenly casting the outcrop of trees concealing grimacing halflings into the true darkness of autumn night, depriving them of the rare evening light they'd been taking for granted. A few long minutes of endurance and Tammy had finally given in, calling out for the others, softly making a request of the shadows not far from her to confirm that everything was alright. When no reply came, she circled slowly around the tree with her back to bark, knees of her expensive silk trousers soon mussed from a combination of muddy peat and decaying leaves.
She squinted and scanned the trees, found nothing, then called out again, even softer this time, fear trickling into her voice. Nothing, save for slow, crunching footsteps in the blackened distance. Eyes wide, she stared for a moment, searching for a source and finding a dim orange light, source obscured by trees. Whatever had happened to the others, she decided, it wouldn't do her any good to cower and hide, she'd stick to the plan, she'd be bait and she'd be the hero too if she had to.
It was with a white-knuckled grip on a small branch that she shoved up and to her feet, breathing heavily. A tree just before her own was the last cover the striding figure had, but the crunching footfalls stopped. A pause. The orange glow it carried went dim. Tammy charged, hoping it was a moment of vulnerability, swinging her makeshift weapon.
A snap of wood against a solid surface, than a strong grip at her wrist, the sight of a familiar face eliciting a squeal of terror. But then a familiar voice as well, and a distinct lack of gleaming teeth and yellow eyes. "It's me. Calm down!"
A strong hand shuffled the top of her head back and forth, then clasped her shoulder in a brusque show of comfort. Once his lantern was lit anew, the young man gestured in the direction he came, torchlight gleaming of the thin silver links beneath his tabard of crossed swords, "The other children ran to town and made a fuss."
She was not crying, but she had certainly been embarrassed. When a hand was offered to her, she took it, but soon the smaller halfling of the two was avoiding eye contact, glancing off and into the distant trees at her flank, pretending to scan for threats as she thumbs her eyes, "They didn't get hurt?"
The swirling mess of barren branches overhead seemed almost quaint now, Tammy finding her footfalls landing on tilled field rather than a canopy of leaves after only a short journey forward. Had she truly been this close to Wellhaven the entire time? When speaking, her terse guardian had glanced down and over at her frequently, "They got frightened by noises in the dark and ran home. All accounted for, except for you and your 'brave sacrifice'."
Tammy gawks upward and says, "Brave?"
The town is nearly pitch black, save for pinpricks of torchlight in the distance, marking the entrances of homes still briefly disturbed by terrified would-be monster slayers. The Warder of Arvoreen spoke quietly, leading his pride filled charge to the flickering entrance of their temporary home, an inn, "Their words, not mine. I told you not to stay out this late. We return home before first light, and now you'll be dead on your feet."
The girl doesn't sag despite her small frown, earning her a second pat on the shoulder. After the duo had paced together into their shelter from the cold, innkeeper glancing towards the younger with a soft sigh of relief, Tammy spoke softly, "I'm sorry for... hitting you."
A quiet retort from the older halfling, door unlocked and held open, "You'll have time to work on your technique for next harvest festival. I've... decided that this first trip need not be our last."
It was rare for the young man's speech to falter, but it had. The girl, however, hardly seemed to notice. Elated, she took to a quick zig-zagging dash, delivering a hug to the taller figure's leg before bolting into the room, shouting an instantly cheerful gratitude over her shoulder, "Thank you!"
A change of clothing and a snuffing of candles later and Tammy is settled beneath the covers of an oversized bed. In the dark, buried enough to be little more than a poof of russet hair and peering eyes poking from the edge of the sheets, she gawks at her guardian across the room, towards the wall opposite of the room's entrance. Seated on the floor with his back to unpainted wood and his attention on the door, he seemed a statue, blue eyes the same as hers, but his face lacked her beaming smile.
