Pelagia
Posted: Wed Feb 29, 2012 10:06 pm
"Bone to iron, blood to flame-
hammer, anvil, tongs, coal-
water, air, fire, hammer-
thus the blacksmith's soul."
-"Redeeming the Lost" Elizabeth Kerner
Name: Pelagia
Age: 19
Race: Centaur
Profession: Blacksmith
Physical Description: Pelagia is noticeably smaller than many of her kind, able to stand eye to eye with a human rather than looking down at them. Despite her height, which may be seen as a flaw by a fellow centaur, she is obviously well muscled. A lifetime of hard work has left its mark on her. Palegia's hands are calloused from her work as a blacksmith. Her arms and shoulders are toned and strong to match her stocky equine body. Not surprisingly, her horse-like lower body closely resembles that of a draft or cob animal. Her legs are sturdy and thick boned, ending in wide hooves that are most often hidden beneath a flare of feathering.
Her lower body is covered with a short, white coat with large, colorful patches of cinnamon scattered across her body. Her tail is a thick, wavy mass of the two colors, while the feathering around each of her hooves appears to be completely white. Like her tail, her hair is thick and tumbles down over her shoulders in a collection of light cinnamon colored curls. She often wears it twisted in a rough knot at the base of her neck and tied off with a strip of dyed leather in order to keep it manageable. Tied back in this way, her hair frames her face rather than hiding it. Her blue eyes are large, alert and intelligent looking. The surprisingly soft features of her face give her a friendly and approachable look.
A thin cord of leather hangs around her neck and displays a beautifully crafted iron pendant in the shape of a hoof print. Her human torso is modestly covered in a short woolen tunic dyed the same blue as her eyes and embroidered along the hem with simple yet elegant designs that seem to have been inspired by flowers. Over the tunic she wears a practical leather belt.
Possessions: Pelagia's possessions are few, but dearly treasured none the less. Most are kept safely in a pair of well made leather bags that are worn strapped across her equine back for travel. One contains all of her blacksmithing tools that are small enough to carry, such as her gloves, hammers, tongs, chisels, files, flint, and knife. In addition to those tools, the bag also carries a few survival necessities. The second bag holds more personal items which include a cloak made of white fur, a wool blanket, bronze leg and wrist bracers, a thick leather vest, a second tunic, and a small wooden flute. The only weapon she chooses to carry with her on a day to day basis is a flanged mace, which she usually keeps ready at her belt.
Powers and Strengths: Like all centaurs, Pelagia is gifted with exceptional strength and speed. Despite the fact that she is a woman, she is more than capable of doing the work of any human or elven man and her endurance and speed are such to match nearly any well bred horse. Because of these natural gifts, she is capable of completing demanding work as well as running long distances with little rest, even while carrying supplies. She can be very quick to react to new situations and has a streak of courage born from her optimistic outlook on life.
Her centaur blood has also given her a number of other more mundane, yet valuable traits. Due to an average body temperature higher than that of humans and the warm, protective coat covering most of her body, Pelagia is able to tolerate harsh weather conditions very well. This allows her to continue working or travelling when others may be forced to stop.
Weaknesses and Flaws: Although she both crafts weapons and carries one, she has never received any formal training in their use for battle. Her attention to weapons has only ever gone as far as the quality and workmanship of the item. This forces her to rely heavily on instinct when knowledge and form may serve her better. Pelagia's lack of experience as a fighter is perhaps her most obvious weakness and is easy to see in the way she handles weaponry.
Pelagia's optimism and naivety do unfortunately put her at a certain disadvantage. She is not always as cautious of strangers as she should be and tends to offer her trust too freely. She likes to believe that others are ultimately good, and can be inclined to give second chances to the wrong sort of people.
Like many centaurs, Pelagia has a fear of being confined or trapped. Freedom is a central part of life for her kind, and so small, enclosed, or otherwise confining spaces can be extremely difficult to handle. Her reaction to it depends greatly on the type of space she is forced to deal with. For example, a barn or open tavern room is merely uncomfortable, while a basement or cave can be almost intolerable.
History:
The Days Before Departing:
Pelagia brought the heavy hammer down on the hot steel, narrowing her eyes as sparks flew up around her. Behind her, she could feel the steady gaze of her grandsire -Balios- on her as he watched. He was here to see how she was progressing and judge her skills at the forge. She tried to ignore him, to focus completely on the task at hand. Using the tongs, she carefully adjusted the metal and brought the hammer down again. The sound of it striking rang through her body and down all four legs as it pulsed through her like the beat of a drum. There was something deep and powerful about commanding fire and metal. The work spoke to her.
Sweat beaded and ran down her arms and back as she worked, soaking the thick leather vest that she always wore while at the forge cart. Under her careful eye, the shape of an axe head was emerging. This was her test. It was her moment to prove herself and earn her title properly. Her grandsire shifted, stepping around her to get a clear view of each movement. He was a centaur of few words and his quiet watchfulness had a tendency to set her nerves on edge. Pelagia nearly sighed her relief aloud when she eventually saw him nod with approval. He had been a master of the craft longer than she had been alive. The old centaur was both family and master, and as such, his opinion of her work was indescribably important to her.
"Good," his gruff voice was rich with approval, "You're doing very well."
She smiled at his compliment, all the while never taking her eyes from her work. She had been his apprentice for so long and she was certain that he knew precisely what she was or was not capable of. The fact that he felt it deserved to be said gave her a sense of accomplishment that she had never truly felt before. She let that feeling give her new energy and finished her work in good time, eventually setting her project to slowly cool. It would need more work. In order to be finished it would need to be heated and cooled again in the pattern that had become so familiar to her, then the edge filed carefully to form the sharp blade. For now though, she had done what she could.
Pelagia stepped back from the forge cart. Only moments ago it had been the center of her world. Now, standing away from it, it was nothing more than a warm glow on the plains. Her clan was nomadic, and therefore all of their possessions must be portable as well. When the time came to move again, the forge could simply be packed up and pulled. The elm and oak cart that held the tools, bellows, and hearth was as vital to them as their own pavilion tents. Through the ore they acquired in trade, it gave them the means to create nearly all of their own tools and small weapons.
At the sound of hoof steps beside her, she turned to see her grandsire staring out over the plains. His craggy face was set in an unreadable mask and for a moment, neither of them said a word. Pelagia let the silence fall around them like the evening air. It felt especially cool compared to the heat of the forge and it was a welcome change. Unexpectedly, the old blacksmith held out his hand, offering her something. Without hesitation, she accepted and he dropped a few iron arrowheads into her open palm.
"Look at them," Balios said, "Notice how fine the point is. The arrowheads our clan made in the past were nothing like this. Quality that was poor is now good, and the whole clan benefits from it."
For an just an instant, she wasn't sure of the meaning behind his words. She thought about them, knowing that he would expect her to take her time. When she did speak, she felt her words lacking.
"The one that made them improved," she said finally, "He learned."
"Yes," he said, offering the ghost of a smile, "I learned. You will, too, but there is only so much that you can teach yourself and only so much that I can show you here. The technique for those arrowheads came from an elf. Were it not for his guidance, we may still be hunting with poorer pieces."
Understanding dawned slowly on her and she switched her tail to and fro as excitement and nervousness warred in her mind. Silence descended again as he let her take it all in. She returned the arrowheads to him wordlessly and turned so that she could take in the full sight of the clan's camp. She could see other centaurs going about their evening chores, building the fires outside of their pavilions which stood open to the breeze. Although the camp moved with the seasons and desires of those living in it, it was as familiar to her as her own hands. It was all she knew.
"You mean me to leave," she said, voice cracking with sudden emotion.
"I mean you to learn and to bring what you learn back one day to serve the clan. You know it is the way of things. Many have gone before you and many will go after. You are ready and have been for months," he answered with calm certainty.
Pelagia felt a sudden lump in her throat and swallowed before taking a deep breath to calm herself. She knew that everything he said was true, but to leave? Even if it were only temporary, she had never been outside the clan before and had certainly never been on her own. Yes, she knew how to hunt, forage, and create shelter and fire. Everyone in her clan learned these things at a young age. The idea was still daunting. And yet, some other small part of her was excited. The ember of a single word flared up like a flame in her mind: adventure.
"It will be good. You will see and learn things that you could never have come to know otherwise. You'll be standing on your own four proper," he said.
She could not guess how he knew those were the right words, spoken at the right time, but he had. She smiled, despite the fact that she was also sniffling and nodded her agreement. Yes. Everything about this was right, even if it was not easy.
"What will I tell mama and papa?"
"Tell them to be proud."
-----------------------------------------------
By dawn the next day, Pelagia stood at the entry to her family's pavilion tent. She had risen early to prepare and to say her farewells. Her mother emerged from within, her arms loaded with her daughter's travelling packs. Pelagia turned to face her and the older woman forced an encouraging smile.
"I've woven a second tunic for you," her mother told her as she helped her to strap the bags across her equine back, "I've no doubt that you'll need to stay presentable and make a good impression. Just remember your manners. You represent all of us."
"I will, mama. I promise," Pelagia said quietly, touched by the gift.
Her mother, Megaira, was one of their clan's most talented weavers and spinners. The tunic was surely a valuable one. Pelagia turned, and in a sudden impulse embraced her mother as she had when she was little.
"Do I not deserve a farewell, too?" A deep voiced asked.
Pelagia looked up as her father stepped into the morning light. "Of course you do, Papa," she said.
He approached her and put a hand on her shoulder. There were no watery eyes or sniffles here. Abeiron was a proud centaur, and like his child, he favored optimism over tears. His smile was not forced, but enthusiastic.
"You'll do well," he said, sounding positive of it, "All you must do is go at this experience 'hammer and tongs'. Only do us all the favor of being careful until you return to us."
She laughed a little at his usage of one of her grandsire's favorite sayings and nodded, "Yes, I will be,"
Pelagia stepped back. Was it really as simple as this? To say goodbye and then just...turn and leave? Her hooves felt as if they had been welded to the ground with this sudden hesitation. There was nothing stopping her now. Her bags were packed and strapped securely in place. She had said her farewells and received only love and support from her family. Her worries must have shown on her face, for her father put on a mock expression of sternness.
"Be off with you girl, go make something of yourself," he growled playfully.
His words had their desired effect. They broke the spell of indecision. She laughed again and reared up on her hind legs, turning as she did so and broke off across the plain in a swift canter.
Related NPC's:
Megaira- Mother / Weaver
Abeiron- Father / Herdsman
Balios- Grandfather / Master Blacksmith
hammer, anvil, tongs, coal-
water, air, fire, hammer-
thus the blacksmith's soul."
-"Redeeming the Lost" Elizabeth Kerner
Name: Pelagia
Age: 19
Race: Centaur
Profession: Blacksmith
Physical Description: Pelagia is noticeably smaller than many of her kind, able to stand eye to eye with a human rather than looking down at them. Despite her height, which may be seen as a flaw by a fellow centaur, she is obviously well muscled. A lifetime of hard work has left its mark on her. Palegia's hands are calloused from her work as a blacksmith. Her arms and shoulders are toned and strong to match her stocky equine body. Not surprisingly, her horse-like lower body closely resembles that of a draft or cob animal. Her legs are sturdy and thick boned, ending in wide hooves that are most often hidden beneath a flare of feathering.
Her lower body is covered with a short, white coat with large, colorful patches of cinnamon scattered across her body. Her tail is a thick, wavy mass of the two colors, while the feathering around each of her hooves appears to be completely white. Like her tail, her hair is thick and tumbles down over her shoulders in a collection of light cinnamon colored curls. She often wears it twisted in a rough knot at the base of her neck and tied off with a strip of dyed leather in order to keep it manageable. Tied back in this way, her hair frames her face rather than hiding it. Her blue eyes are large, alert and intelligent looking. The surprisingly soft features of her face give her a friendly and approachable look.
A thin cord of leather hangs around her neck and displays a beautifully crafted iron pendant in the shape of a hoof print. Her human torso is modestly covered in a short woolen tunic dyed the same blue as her eyes and embroidered along the hem with simple yet elegant designs that seem to have been inspired by flowers. Over the tunic she wears a practical leather belt.
Possessions: Pelagia's possessions are few, but dearly treasured none the less. Most are kept safely in a pair of well made leather bags that are worn strapped across her equine back for travel. One contains all of her blacksmithing tools that are small enough to carry, such as her gloves, hammers, tongs, chisels, files, flint, and knife. In addition to those tools, the bag also carries a few survival necessities. The second bag holds more personal items which include a cloak made of white fur, a wool blanket, bronze leg and wrist bracers, a thick leather vest, a second tunic, and a small wooden flute. The only weapon she chooses to carry with her on a day to day basis is a flanged mace, which she usually keeps ready at her belt.
Powers and Strengths: Like all centaurs, Pelagia is gifted with exceptional strength and speed. Despite the fact that she is a woman, she is more than capable of doing the work of any human or elven man and her endurance and speed are such to match nearly any well bred horse. Because of these natural gifts, she is capable of completing demanding work as well as running long distances with little rest, even while carrying supplies. She can be very quick to react to new situations and has a streak of courage born from her optimistic outlook on life.
Her centaur blood has also given her a number of other more mundane, yet valuable traits. Due to an average body temperature higher than that of humans and the warm, protective coat covering most of her body, Pelagia is able to tolerate harsh weather conditions very well. This allows her to continue working or travelling when others may be forced to stop.
Weaknesses and Flaws: Although she both crafts weapons and carries one, she has never received any formal training in their use for battle. Her attention to weapons has only ever gone as far as the quality and workmanship of the item. This forces her to rely heavily on instinct when knowledge and form may serve her better. Pelagia's lack of experience as a fighter is perhaps her most obvious weakness and is easy to see in the way she handles weaponry.
Pelagia's optimism and naivety do unfortunately put her at a certain disadvantage. She is not always as cautious of strangers as she should be and tends to offer her trust too freely. She likes to believe that others are ultimately good, and can be inclined to give second chances to the wrong sort of people.
Like many centaurs, Pelagia has a fear of being confined or trapped. Freedom is a central part of life for her kind, and so small, enclosed, or otherwise confining spaces can be extremely difficult to handle. Her reaction to it depends greatly on the type of space she is forced to deal with. For example, a barn or open tavern room is merely uncomfortable, while a basement or cave can be almost intolerable.
History:
The Days Before Departing:
Pelagia brought the heavy hammer down on the hot steel, narrowing her eyes as sparks flew up around her. Behind her, she could feel the steady gaze of her grandsire -Balios- on her as he watched. He was here to see how she was progressing and judge her skills at the forge. She tried to ignore him, to focus completely on the task at hand. Using the tongs, she carefully adjusted the metal and brought the hammer down again. The sound of it striking rang through her body and down all four legs as it pulsed through her like the beat of a drum. There was something deep and powerful about commanding fire and metal. The work spoke to her.
Sweat beaded and ran down her arms and back as she worked, soaking the thick leather vest that she always wore while at the forge cart. Under her careful eye, the shape of an axe head was emerging. This was her test. It was her moment to prove herself and earn her title properly. Her grandsire shifted, stepping around her to get a clear view of each movement. He was a centaur of few words and his quiet watchfulness had a tendency to set her nerves on edge. Pelagia nearly sighed her relief aloud when she eventually saw him nod with approval. He had been a master of the craft longer than she had been alive. The old centaur was both family and master, and as such, his opinion of her work was indescribably important to her.
"Good," his gruff voice was rich with approval, "You're doing very well."
She smiled at his compliment, all the while never taking her eyes from her work. She had been his apprentice for so long and she was certain that he knew precisely what she was or was not capable of. The fact that he felt it deserved to be said gave her a sense of accomplishment that she had never truly felt before. She let that feeling give her new energy and finished her work in good time, eventually setting her project to slowly cool. It would need more work. In order to be finished it would need to be heated and cooled again in the pattern that had become so familiar to her, then the edge filed carefully to form the sharp blade. For now though, she had done what she could.
Pelagia stepped back from the forge cart. Only moments ago it had been the center of her world. Now, standing away from it, it was nothing more than a warm glow on the plains. Her clan was nomadic, and therefore all of their possessions must be portable as well. When the time came to move again, the forge could simply be packed up and pulled. The elm and oak cart that held the tools, bellows, and hearth was as vital to them as their own pavilion tents. Through the ore they acquired in trade, it gave them the means to create nearly all of their own tools and small weapons.
At the sound of hoof steps beside her, she turned to see her grandsire staring out over the plains. His craggy face was set in an unreadable mask and for a moment, neither of them said a word. Pelagia let the silence fall around them like the evening air. It felt especially cool compared to the heat of the forge and it was a welcome change. Unexpectedly, the old blacksmith held out his hand, offering her something. Without hesitation, she accepted and he dropped a few iron arrowheads into her open palm.
"Look at them," Balios said, "Notice how fine the point is. The arrowheads our clan made in the past were nothing like this. Quality that was poor is now good, and the whole clan benefits from it."
For an just an instant, she wasn't sure of the meaning behind his words. She thought about them, knowing that he would expect her to take her time. When she did speak, she felt her words lacking.
"The one that made them improved," she said finally, "He learned."
"Yes," he said, offering the ghost of a smile, "I learned. You will, too, but there is only so much that you can teach yourself and only so much that I can show you here. The technique for those arrowheads came from an elf. Were it not for his guidance, we may still be hunting with poorer pieces."
Understanding dawned slowly on her and she switched her tail to and fro as excitement and nervousness warred in her mind. Silence descended again as he let her take it all in. She returned the arrowheads to him wordlessly and turned so that she could take in the full sight of the clan's camp. She could see other centaurs going about their evening chores, building the fires outside of their pavilions which stood open to the breeze. Although the camp moved with the seasons and desires of those living in it, it was as familiar to her as her own hands. It was all she knew.
"You mean me to leave," she said, voice cracking with sudden emotion.
"I mean you to learn and to bring what you learn back one day to serve the clan. You know it is the way of things. Many have gone before you and many will go after. You are ready and have been for months," he answered with calm certainty.
Pelagia felt a sudden lump in her throat and swallowed before taking a deep breath to calm herself. She knew that everything he said was true, but to leave? Even if it were only temporary, she had never been outside the clan before and had certainly never been on her own. Yes, she knew how to hunt, forage, and create shelter and fire. Everyone in her clan learned these things at a young age. The idea was still daunting. And yet, some other small part of her was excited. The ember of a single word flared up like a flame in her mind: adventure.
"It will be good. You will see and learn things that you could never have come to know otherwise. You'll be standing on your own four proper," he said.
She could not guess how he knew those were the right words, spoken at the right time, but he had. She smiled, despite the fact that she was also sniffling and nodded her agreement. Yes. Everything about this was right, even if it was not easy.
"What will I tell mama and papa?"
"Tell them to be proud."
-----------------------------------------------
By dawn the next day, Pelagia stood at the entry to her family's pavilion tent. She had risen early to prepare and to say her farewells. Her mother emerged from within, her arms loaded with her daughter's travelling packs. Pelagia turned to face her and the older woman forced an encouraging smile.
"I've woven a second tunic for you," her mother told her as she helped her to strap the bags across her equine back, "I've no doubt that you'll need to stay presentable and make a good impression. Just remember your manners. You represent all of us."
"I will, mama. I promise," Pelagia said quietly, touched by the gift.
Her mother, Megaira, was one of their clan's most talented weavers and spinners. The tunic was surely a valuable one. Pelagia turned, and in a sudden impulse embraced her mother as she had when she was little.
"Do I not deserve a farewell, too?" A deep voiced asked.
Pelagia looked up as her father stepped into the morning light. "Of course you do, Papa," she said.
He approached her and put a hand on her shoulder. There were no watery eyes or sniffles here. Abeiron was a proud centaur, and like his child, he favored optimism over tears. His smile was not forced, but enthusiastic.
"You'll do well," he said, sounding positive of it, "All you must do is go at this experience 'hammer and tongs'. Only do us all the favor of being careful until you return to us."
She laughed a little at his usage of one of her grandsire's favorite sayings and nodded, "Yes, I will be,"
Pelagia stepped back. Was it really as simple as this? To say goodbye and then just...turn and leave? Her hooves felt as if they had been welded to the ground with this sudden hesitation. There was nothing stopping her now. Her bags were packed and strapped securely in place. She had said her farewells and received only love and support from her family. Her worries must have shown on her face, for her father put on a mock expression of sternness.
"Be off with you girl, go make something of yourself," he growled playfully.
His words had their desired effect. They broke the spell of indecision. She laughed again and reared up on her hind legs, turning as she did so and broke off across the plain in a swift canter.
Related NPC's:
Megaira- Mother / Weaver
Abeiron- Father / Herdsman
Balios- Grandfather / Master Blacksmith
