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Post by northernxlights on Apr 25, 2009 0:40:42 GMT -5
what you'd see at first.
n a m e - -
trystal kershmaine.
g e n d e r - -
female.
s e a s o n s - -
fifty-two seasons - thirteen years.
s p e c i e s - -
fieldmouse.
o c c u p a t i o n s - -
sister.
cook.
healer.
gardener.
farmer.
m a r i t a l s t a t u s - -
single.
d w e l l i n g - -
redwall abbey.
a l i g n m e n t - -
good.
f i r s t l o o k s - -
Usually dressed in a pretty, comfortable gown or smock, Trystal cuts a simple figure. Trystal likes to dress simple, but graceful. Since she adopted quite a skill at sewing, Trystal can easily find herself the right piece of apparel. And usually, a headband or a colorful sort of flower tucked neatly under her ear came along with them, topping her graceful look to an end. Trystal's favorite range of colors are from pastel green to pink to yellow. When not clad in a warm gown or the usual smock, Trystal typically wears a long, creamy rose habit that trails out behind her or a pastel blue tunic. If not in any of those, you'd see the traditional Redwall habit hanging floppily from her arms. So you'd see quite a lot of different apparel on this mousemaid.
Trystal stands shorter than the average mice during her season. The little mousemaid is tiny. Her arms, legs, and body are thin but long, cutting a slim figure. Because of this, Trystal isn't strong, but agile and swift. Trystal is also delicately fragile, not suited for paw-in-paw combat. This young maid is skilled in slipping in and out of the room quietly and slinking around the Abbey without a sound. Although most of her apparel trains out in her wake, it is rather difficult for this mousemaid to trip over them. However, when in cold weather, Trystal has to wrap herself in many layers, even with the most unappealing of rags.
Trystal is a young and pretty darling. She has fur hued of a dirty brown, hazel, and with a touch of russet all mixed together, with the exception of her stomach, which the major colors are replaced with creamy snow white fur. The intelligent orbs that rest above her pointed nose tip are dark, and going upward, two keen ears perch. She has a nice length of eyelashes, that she flutters without really even knowing that she was, that might make a gentlebeast fall head over tail. Typically, Trystal would dust a homemade pollen and petal mix all over herself to have a sweet smell around here. Trystal usually keeps herself clean and neat, but when fun is around the corner, there's really no need. The little mousemaid cares for her first looks, but doesn't fret over them and keeps them simple.
w e a p o n - -
striker - short bow and arrows.
b e l o n g i n g s - -
A pouch like a friend, eh? Trystal had sowed her own personal little handbag, which has normally has slung over her shoulders when strolling through Redwall grounds or out on a search for a type of herb. The pouch is made of golden brown leather Trystal found on a scavenger hunt one day. All of her daily possessions and objects are packed in this pouch, which she could retrieve in an instant.
Typically contained in her pouch is a wrap of some candied hazelnut treats, a wooden, oriented with colorful beads comb, a couple of headbands, her tightly-folded apron, her tiny, wooden flute, and her personal "perfume." Other than her own belongings, this mousemaid also carries around herbs, in case of emergencies, Trystal had prissily claimed, like arrowroot, sage, mint, and thyme. And lastly to her carried possessions is a simple necklace with a small, shiny gray pearl attached, something handed down from her mother.
without my outer shell.
c h a r a c t e r - -
Trystal has quite a collection of qualities. Her main attributes are either sweet or goodhearted. She holds a very colorful, positive nature, which has to be loved, right? What a sweetie little Trystal is. This tiny mouse lives up to the name of sweet. She's a complete darling, who doesn't do it for the fall of gentlebeasts or kind manner in return. You wouldn't really call her a player, yet she's loved for her sweet and kind nature. Trystal treats everybeast equally with the same level of respect (of course, with the exception of the high-ranked beasts, such as the Abbot/Abbess, Abbey Champion, and so on) and kindness. Trystal has also adopted the title of modesty. The mousemaid never admits anything awing she preformed or gets showing off. She'll just simply nod or smile with pleasure. Although Trystal acts as mature as she can be, when you really get to know her, this mousemaid is a laid-back, lively creature, who is just eager for some fun.
Trystal is useful for a lot of things housewise. She can cook, clean, and sew, very well at these things too. This innocent-looking creature also knows when and how to have fun. She especially loves to play with young Dibbuns. Trystal comes with a full package of love and care. Trystal even has promising healing abilities that go well with her vast knowledge of herbs and healing mixtures. Because she acts almost like a nursemaid, Trystal dislikes war or conflict. Period. But if desperately needed, Trystal bravely proves to be a deadly archer in combat alongside her hardly-used bow and arrows, Striker, which she keeps hidden underneath her bed, and, not only agile swiftness, but quick thinking. Aside that, Trystal is a true mouse of goodness. She holds dearly to her friends, thinking of others first.
The good mousemaid hates to be involved in arguments or disorder that disrupts peace, and tries her best to wiggle herself out, if she ever got in. Trystal merely avoids it altogether. Trystal is rather the organized type. She proves well as a housemaid, fixing up a place spotless in minutes. This tiny, adventurous mouse knows how to have a light laugh and talk. She knows how to get along with others, and is a fun beast to be around with. Trystal simply likes to have fun, enjoy life, and take nothing personally. She's an easygoing and simple creature that faithfully treasures friends and love more than any gold coin.
s t r e n g t h s - -
Trystal adopted many skills as a young mousemaid. She's mainly like other resourceful maids, useful with housecleaning, cooking, and sowing. Trystal is fast and determined and can tidy up a messy room rather quickly. She's a skilled cook, though, some of the time, this bold maid would experiment with spices and recipes. The outcomes usually ended up not editable, or not-wanted-to-be-eaten. Otherwise, she has a paw in cooking. Trystal also sows her own clothes. Rather, she's quite talented at that, although most mousewives were so. She likes to use color fabric and create unique apparel. Almost everything she wears is paw-maded by her own.
Not only the basic housemaid things do Trystal have a skill at, but a little dancing and acting. Being a fun-loving mouse, Trystal just simply can't stand a day without jumping about in a dance or performance. The little mouse is just so dramatic in a play. She isn't shy at all on stage. However, it's totally opposite when singing. Trystal can sing, but only rarely, for she is rather shy and nervous about letting out a few warbles. Most of the time, it's when she's alone, all to herself.
Oh Trystal, she just can't have enough love and mercy, now can she? Even though she can use a bow and arrows, Trystal certainly hates to. Trystal sees herself as more of a nurse, treating to the sick and injured. Trystal tries them all, sometimes even the foe. And, as a matter of fact, she has a good practice at it. Rather than jump around firing arrows, Trystal prefers to be behind the line of battlers to help the injured out of the battlefield and nurse it back to health.
Knowledge of vegetation, herbs, environment, and things of the sort is vast in the mind of Trystal. The little mouse likes to nose around her surroundings and discover new things that grow freely on the lands. Combine that with her favor of healing than hurting, Trystal proves to be a useful nursemaid. And because of her love for plants and things of the like, she has also adopted the art of gardening and farming. Trystal could spend all day alone in the fields of crops, and even might be ushering words with them, giggling to herself often.
And last, but certainly not the least, Trystal has the paws for a bow and arrows. She has a set of her own, although its rarely touched, let alone used. Well, to be quite honest, Trystal didn't start young as the most skilled archer out there. But she's a quick and willing learner. She's swift and agile, adding her ranged eyesight and quick eyes, and is able to load easily and perform swift and accurate skirts and attacks.
w e a k n e s s e s - -
Everybeast has a set of flaws; Trystal proves to be no different. She has held a collection of lacking spots, especially at a young age. The main problem since birth is insecurity. As confident and flawless as Trystal may look on the outside, this tiny creature has her doubts inwardly. As she was growing up on her parent's farm, Trystal could never think she could succeed them. She loved helping about in the fields, but had her doubts on if she'll go through when her parents weren't around any longer. To her younger brothers, Trystal couldn't and didn't think she'll make a good role-model on those two naughty mice. Trystal didn't believe she could lift weapon, kill or harm another living beast, even to protect herself, or anything that she could do now. When Redwall accepted her in, she couldn't see herself blending in with all of those kind, yet strangers to her, creatures, blending in with the crowd. Such thoughts put her in doubt, even to this day.
Winter, a harsh dread for the kindest and badest creatures, young and old, and strong and weak alike, isn't uncommon for one to fall under. But Trystal is slightly different. When out in cold weather, even for the quickest of moments, the mousemaid suddenly becomes ice-cold, as in, her paws, face, ears, and any part of her body feels cold to the touch. You can also visibly see her pale frost-white right before your eyes, all the blood from her face seemingly drained away. She'll instantly shiver uncontrollably; Trystal will wheeze in gasps, and, sooner or later, she'll faint completely. Such a terrifying sight you'll probably never want to see to such a fragile creature. No one knows exactly why that happens. It just does. So, in frosty weather, Trystal has to stumble around, fully clothed with thick pieces of apparel, every inch of fur cloaked until you can almost not make her out.
Let's face it. Trystal can't fight hand-in-hand. She just simply can't. Due to her fragile body structure and lack of physical strength, she won't last a few seconds in a melee. If you want Trystal to be at least useful in battle, put her in the back, where she'll be firing away from the archer ranks. Better yet, assign her as the nurse, at least. Trystal is fast and graceful, and has great accuracy, but, as a warning, this maid won't last very long out in a battlefield, up close and without her Striker, her bow, along with a quiver of arrows.
Alright then, let's face another problem. Trystal is, honestly, a terrible liar. Of course, she would never think of lying, or getting herself into trouble to the point she has to lie (well, if you didn't count her naughty Dibbun days). It's a can't-do for her. When engaged in anything that required the need for false words, she usually got the fake story correct, but Trystal messes up the rest. For example, she'll shiver nervously, bite on her paw, flick her ears, twitch her nose, or tap her paw in a nervous way. But, that was when she was young and foolish. That problem isn't an issue any longer, since she's about grown up and learned better than lying. But, when there are time when the false word is needed, like, for a surprise event, for instance, she slips.
Ah. The fear of water. Most beasts possess this dread. Trystal isn't any different than the rest. She can't stand the water. Okay, if an accident happened in the kitchens, or the daily bath, it was fine, but swimming, a no-no. Firstly, Trystal can't swim. Because of her dislike to water, she never tried. Secondly, of course, the dislike. Trystal becomes a total shrimp when she sights a running river or stream. She's afraid to touch it, and if she can't feel any stable pawhold down under, she isn't going any farther, you can count on that. Another fear that caused this one is drowning. Trystal would never allow herself to go near the streams and rivers. Because of this, she's afraid of boats and rafts.
Finally, her life-long nightmare. Fire. After what happened to her childhood and what ruined it, Trystal could never bring herself to forgive the dangerous tongues of flame. It was strange. Fire could be useful for good, like, to make delicious hot scones or fresh loafs of bread. They could be used to light way in the dark and warm a cold night. But, it could also be bad, going to burning down a cottage or take the life of loved ones. Even though she knows fire was needed in life, she just can't seem to like it over the point she thinks of it now, only a pinch of help for everyday life.
dig just a little deeper.
b a c k g r o u n d - -
Late summer one rich season, a young maiden was brought to the world within a sturdy little wooden cottage in the foliage of Mossflower Woods. Kelem and Cuyra Fieldmouse were her parents, and Trystal was her name. She was small, smaller than the average fieldmouse. Kelem and is wife were farmers, who lived alongside another couple of Fieldmice and their two young ones nearby. They grew fresh crops just enough to feed the families. The coming autumn looked to be kind and a blessing to the Kelem and Cuyra Fieldmouse, with the fresh, fruitful harvest and their first baby child.
As a tiny baby, Trystal grew alongside the children of Renoll and his kindly mousewife, Hariel, who had a farm close by. She looked to them as her "uncle" and "aunt." Together with the two other playful babes, Noria and Weggl, Trystal spent most of the day playing close by, under the watchful eye of their parents. They learned to talk, read, write, and help around the gardens under their wise and educated elders. When Trystal faced her fourth season, Cuyra reared two more young ones. Both were twins named Brekkle and Vinytor. Trystal made it her goal that she'll be seen as a role-model to the little ones.
Brekkle and Vinytor grew up to be, well, mischievious, as you might have imagined a Dibbun would be. They stole from the kitchens, skipped their bath, and other things naughty Dibbuns might do. And it was that when Trystal knew she had failed as a role-model. She figured they could do without her help. Both her brothers were still young and knew little. They often got themselves into trouble to the point that they dragged their family into the havoc.
Their naughtiness annoyed Kelem and Cuyra, even Renoll and his mousewife, but their pranks and carelessness never caused damaged, until late autumn of Trystal's eighth season. It was another year of good harvest. The supply stores was well stocked, and new wood and repairs for the houses and farms seemed sturdy to endure the incoming winter. Kelem, Renoll, and Hariel, accompanied by Trystal, Noria, and Weggl, had wandered out to collect barrels of fresh water from River Moss nearby, leaving Cuyra to watch over Brekkle and Vinytor.
Trystal wanted to help scoop water from the slowly running water, chuckling over the peaceful air of Mossflower with the last barrel. Holding the barrel against her waist, she dipped it into the cool water, catching the fresh liquid as it streamed by. From behind her, Kelem gave a cough of encouragement for her to haul it out. Trystal laughed out loud at her small, but huge to her, accomplishment. On accident, the barrel slipped from her paws as she did, and Trystal lost her balance, holding onto the huge wooden container.
With a last squeak of fright, she plunged into the cool water head-first. Always having a fear of water since she was born, and not knowing how to swim, Trystal flailed her paws wildly. When her head broke the surface, she gasped and screamed before going under again. Her flapping paws did her no good, and Trystal soon found herself with lacking energy and breath. The others kept pace with her along the bank as she was carried downstream, calling out encouragement and help with desperation. Finally seeing that it was helpless, Kelem dived into the river, pacing his paws hard. At that point, Cuyra had heard her daughter's scream and almost flew out of the cottage, leaving the two sleeping babes alone.
Little did she know that Brekkle and Vinytor was asleep. As soon as their mother left, the two young ones hoped out of their beds and skipped right to the kitchens, where they had smelled oak scones earlier. Brekkle climbed atop a wooden stool and played with the oven and stove while searching the cupboards, while Vinytor scoured the window ledges. And, no more than Cuyra knew her children were sleeping, both young ones did not know about the stove that was accidentally switched on.
After finding the scones piled neatly in a handmade crafted jar, the twin brothers scurried back to their rooms, taking a sleeping act after stuffing their jaws with the honeyed sweets. Meanwhile, Kelem had caught hold of the young maiden and hauled her to the bank, the others helping swiftly without hesitation. Cuyra had quickly put sense back into her daughter and urged them all home, treating a coming cold off Trystal.
They arrived too late. By the time that made it back to the farm, the cottage was alight with leaping, hungry orange and yellow flames. The crackle of the fire echoed throughout the forest. Amid the noise from the flames, the choked screams of Vinytor and Brekkle cried. Without thinking, Kelem and his mousewife plunged through the broken door, their only thoughts is to save their young ones. Trystal was about to dive in there herself if the other two Fieldmice had not stopped her. Instead, Renoll and Hariel grabbed the barrels and flung cold water at the crackling flames.
On their last barrel, the fire was already starting to dim out. It was then when Kelem and Cuyra came staggering out with Brekkle and Vinytor tucked safely in their ruined smocks. The two older mice fell to the ground. Frightened to the point that they cried unashamedly, Brekkle and his brother crawled away from the sound of fire and into the arms of Renoll and his wife. Hariel rushed forth and checked over the two limp mice feverishly. Using water, she tried to bring them back to their senses. Even Trystal, Noria, and Weggl joined in, Trystal screaming till no end. However, Cuyra had breathed in too much of the dangerous smoke and was only a limp form. Kelem was on the brink of death, probably already falling over. He gave Trystal one last, weak touch on her cheek and fell limp as well.
For the next few days, Trystal said nothing to no one, not even Noria and her brother. The orphans were herded back to Renoll's dwelling to stay. Brekkle and Vinytor were put in spoiled care, even Trystal. Hariel bustled around, tending to their needs. But, she could help with Trystal's heartache. Noria and Weggl were old enough to identify the problem, and stayed out of the way. At night, when she couldn't sleep, Trystal wept. By day, she slept. Her anger for her lose parents weren't directed at her brothers. She couldn't blamed them; they were only infants. But it was for her, because she had to be so stubborn and allowed to be sucked into the river. It was all her fault. She just had to jump into the water, eh?
After a few weeks of sadness and tears, Trystal was found sitting beside the cottage door, a leather pouch with a strap draped across the shoulder. She was gazing out at the dark, starless sky with a solemn expression. She was leaving. As much as her little siblings needed her support, as much as it was killing her to go with the choice, Trystal just simply couldn't stand being around the place where something terrible had happened. Her thoughts always reverted to that event. Renoll, his mousewife, and their children pleaded with her to stay, but stubborn, oh stubborn Trystal shook her head helplessly and gave them all a heavy goodbye of held back tears and forced smile. Lastly, she came upon her little brothers, who were watching her with blank, sad looks. Trystal smiled and gave them both a silent hug, beckoning them to bed.
Trystal quickly set off, her pouch thumping against her waist with the combined strength of provisions and personal belongings. At first, Trystal was regretting her choice. It was blank when she thought of someplace to go to. Sooner or later, she became lost in the maze of thick oak, elm, rowan, beech trees. Every shrub looked exactly alike. However, a golden stroke of luck was on her side. When she got lost, she had aimlessly traveled in direction to the great red stone building whom she never clapped eyes one, as towering as the building was. Redwall Abbey. Trystal was snacking lightly on a scone with her head twisted backward, observing the oak tree that look vaguely familiar, when she walked smack-dab into the east wall of the Abbey.
Curiously, the young mousemaid skirted the corner of the north wall. Just a turn away, she came upon the main gate of the Abbey. Trystal was accepted in for hospitality. The Redwallers were very kind and generous. She loved very much every minute of her stay. Inspired by the lack of hate and endless amount of love the inhabitants showed toward an outsider, Trystal couldn't help but make up her mind to stay. Hopefully, she could. And Trystal was purely joyous when she was accepted in as a Redwaller. Every moment of the day, Trystal looked at her Redwall status and would smile with happiness.
Trystal tried hard to hide her inner feelings when she was welcomed. She didn't want to think of the past, now that she found happiness. At first, Trystal volunteered to help around with the daily chores, hoping to gain some friends as she did so. However, the majority of her day was spent with young Dibbuns. She simply loved them so. Other times, Trystal was sneak upstairs into the Infirmary, where she tries to soak in lessons and hints from the Infirmary keeper. Healing was one of Trystal's many passions when she was child, and she still held onto it. Trystal tried fitting in comfortably within the Abbey walls. Of course, every now and then, Trystal would slip somewhere and end up blushing furiously, but she went along well, finding a place where she'll grow up happily with friends and loved ones. Never once did the young maiden forgot of her brothers and childhood friends, but being Trystal of Redwall kept her bright and happy.
l o v e d o n e s - -
father kelem - dead.
mother cuyra - dead.
brother brekkle.
brother vinytor.
"uncle" renoll.
"aunt" hariel.
friend noria.
friend weggl.
[ Gwah. Idea-less today. Total crap at the end of teh History. xP ]
xoxo,
Northern Lights
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