Post by mucha on Jul 11, 2014 11:46:19 GMT -5
Name: Agnes Padraig
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Species: a common mouse, nothing special
Occupation: Right now, she’s a traveler.
Physical Appearance: Aggie is a pretty girl, but not overly gorgeous. In a crowded room, she might glean a second look from some, but not a third. She takes after her mother’s side of the family, as far as looks go, with her Du Lac dark blue eyes and straight black hair. Her eyes are usually bright and smiling, and her hair is usually left down to hang at her shoulders.
Agnes is rather short, about a head under the average, and while normally curvy, at this late stage in her pregnancy, she’s twice as curvy. She’ll occasionally joke that she looks like a fertility statue. However, it’s not all fluff. There’s muscle under all that baby gain and padding. She’s got strong legs from walking for three seasons, and work hardened, well calloused hands.
As far as markings go, she takes after her mother there, too: a gentle soft goldish color all over, with a lighter underbelly and darker, almost brown ears.
Possessions: A green tunic and tan breeches, both a size and a half too big, to accommodate her slowly growing baby. A soft cotton dress, also overlarge. It’s slightly nicer than the tunic and breeches, but not by much. It’s kind of thread bare, honestly, but it’s comfortable in the summer heat and she can move easily in it.
A big, warm traveler’s cloak. It’s rather dear to her, as the clasp is the one from her father’s old cloak.
A battered leather pack she bartered off a weasel for half a jug of cider. It came with a little tin mess kit, too. Bowl, knife and fork, even a little hammered tin mug.
A chipped but serviceable dagger, and a pouch of palm- sized stones, for throwing. Not her favorite, or best, weapon. That would be her short spear. But it’s getting more use as an impromptu tent pole than a weapon at this point.
The bottom of her pack has it’s fair share of flotsam and little things that always, inevitably filter down to the bottom of packs and get forgotten. Things like scraps of rope and a leather packet of fishhooks, dust made from the crumbs of old bread and dried up herbs and flowers. If she were to upend the pack, she’d be shocked at how many little things she’s been carrying around in there.
She carries little for purely sentimental reasons. She’s got a few little trinkets that have been given to her from friends she’s met while traveling. Pretty pebbles and small carvings of goddesses and gods and bearers of good luck and safe travels. Most are things she’s accumulated on the road. She only brought one purely sentimental thing with her from the beginning, though: the necklace that’s been in her mother’s family so long no one really knows which ancestor had it first. Carved, rounded beads of a wood that came from some far off place. Hard as pearls the beads are, and black as pitch. Shiny as it, too, from generations of fingers stroking and fidgeting with the beads.
Personality: Aggie is...well, her mother always described her as ‘feisty’, and that is quite the word to describe her. Agnes is bright and quick to laugh and smile. She has patience as deep as a lake for those who deserve it. And none at all for those who don’t. She doesn’t suffer fools and has a sarcastic bite when she wants. She inherited both her parents’ tempers, and won’t be sorry to use them if needs be. Added to that is her insistence to have the last word, almost about anything, in good temper or in bad. She’s learning how to hold her tongue, though, because she really doesn’t want to have to get into a scrap while she’s as ungainly as she is. The only thing she can’t learn to hold back is her colorful vocabulary. Her father was a soldier and her mother was a tavern owner. She’s had quite the extensive education in swearing.
With patience comes stubbornness, something else that Aggie has in spades. Wearing down a brick wall would be easier sometimes.
She’s loyal to her friends and even to her transient companions on the road. She likes to talk, and uses her hands when she does. Her friendly nature might make her seem a decent target for bandits and the like, but she’s watchful, too, and knows how to spot someone trying to sneak up on her.
Aggie gets lonely though, sometimes, when traveling alone for long stretches of time. And while she’s unashamed to be this pregnant, this young, and unmarried, it irks her when others decide that because she isn’t weeping in shame every step of the way that they’re better than her, and refuse to talk to her. And sometimes at night, while she’s lonely and tired, she gets to worrying about whether or not she should be ashamed. Ir if she’s going to be a good mother to her child. And what she’s going to do, once she’s got to settle down for good. She has no idea of any of that yet, and she’s a little scared about it.
Aggie doesn’t care about the whole vermin thing. If you’re willing to be decent and be good company, if you’re willing to help when asked, then she’s willing to be your friend. If you’re going to be an ass, though, or try to pinch her stuff, well, obviously you don’t need a friend but a real good pop on the nose. She’s seen and experienced enough to know that good and bad aren’t traits of one kind of beast or another. It’s a choice.
Strengths: She knows how to fight dirty when necessary. Good aim, can throw a spear like a champ. She knows how to keep bees, and make fishing nets.
Weaknesses: Vulnerable because she’s pregnant and not as agile as she would like to be. Has a temper and a mouth that has, and surely will again, land her in trouble. Her plans for the future are vague at best. She tires easily right now. She's lonely, and probably lets her guard down too much. She turns into a screaming, flailing child when faced with a spider.
History: Agnes is the only child of Marie Du Lac and Fin Padraig. Marie owned a small inn in the swamps skirting a larger village, and Fin was a retired Northland soldier looking for a warmer life. It wasn’t quite love at first sight, but eventually they got their ducks in a row and had Agnes.
Aggie was something of a free spirit, and that was only augmented by her childhood running through the swamps and bayous that lay less than a day inland from the Western shores and far past even the Southsward. She ran and got muddy and played with the other children growing up in the swamping community. Her mother took her along when she went to tend her hives, and Aggie learned about smoking and scraping and how to find a queen amongst all her subjects. She had a large extended family, and from them she learned how to repair and make nets, how to fish and trap crawfish, and how to find her way in the maze-like swamp.
Her father was a retired soldier, and while he was happy to hang his spear up for good, he did take it down to teach his little girl how to use it without gutting herself too. He had also acquired a taste for larger communities in his travels, and often took her to the bustling town of Osprey when he went. It was loud and kind of dirty and there were always all kinds of beasts from all kinds of places, and it fascinated Agnes. It was a large town, boating a few gristmills and a saw mill, forges and apothecaries. Hundreds of beasts lived and worked in Osprey, and the large town square was used as an open air market. That attracted more beasts, of both good and bad intent. It was quite a place, Osprey. She decided early on that she’d rather live someplace quieter, though.
When she was ten, though, her childhood in the swamp ended. Her mother’s Inn caught fire, and while trying to get everyone to safety, Marie and Fin perished. It devastated the young Agnes. What was worse, though, was that upon hearing of her sister’s death, Etta Lacroix nee Du Lac, came and (a little reluctantly) took Aggie away, back to Osprey.
Etta had never liked living in the buggy, wet, swamp, not when there was a beautiful town just hours away. She married as soon as she could, to a promising young merchant that had, over the years, made a small fortune and lived in a fine house. But as little as she liked the swamp, she loved her sister. Maybe not her sister’s husband or their little spawn, but definitely Marie. And she had promised to take care of Agnes should anything happen to her and Fin. And so, because she loved her sister and a promise was a promise, she took Agnes in.
It was obvious from the start that her Aunt Etta was about as displeased by the situation as Aggie was. They didn’t talk to each other except to argue, and Aggie felt stifled in the large manor house with it’s fine tapestries and strange luxuries. She ran away often, and was returned back to Osprey and her aunt just as often. Eventually, she and Etta..well, they didn’t quite make peace with each other, but the reached a stalemate. Often, they avoided each other. When they did see one another, they rarely talked. It wasn’t quite peace, but it was better than the alternative.
Because she was the niece of a fine lady, Aggie was educated just as well as her aunt’s daughter. She can read, write, sing in tune and can even play an instrument. If she tried, she could almost pass for nobility. But Aggie had never aspired to climb society's ladder, and once she was old enough, started slipping out onto the streets of Osprey. Here, she learned how to scrap and fight dirty, how to climb and boast and sharpen her tongue. Her extensive vocabulary of colorful swears was put to good use. And, after one particularly bad fight, she was inspired to again take up her short spear lessons. She grew skilled. She was happy.
Aggie often watched patrols of militia and even the occasional far-reaching Long Patrol slip in and out of the town, and decided that following in her father’s footsteps was what she wanted to do with her life. At least for a while. It was only an added bonus that it made all the blood drain from Aunt Ettie’s face when she announced her decision at dinner.
But only a few days after this decision was made, Agnes’ plans changed for good. All kinds of beasts wander through Osprey, and while most are civil, some aren’t. Aggie was attacked from behind just a short walk from home. It was a blessing, probably, that she can’t remember anything past being dragged into the alley and getting hit on the head with a rock. But it was a brutal attack, one that left her hurting something terrible.
After the attack, Etta was more than adamant that Agnes stay close, stay inside, stay where things couldn't hurt her anymore. This was done partly because in some small way, she had grown close to Agnes over the years. Or, at least to their constant sniping at each other. And she had promised her sister to take care of the raggamuffin, after all.
Agnes, even if she was just as slightly fond of their animosity as Etta was, found staying inside all the time to be stifling. She grew angry, and then furious, and finally, there was an argument between the two women to end all arguments.
That was close to three seasons ago, and after deciding to go north, Aggie is firmly in Mossflower territory, heavily pregnant, and is thinking about settling down, at least for a bit.
Relationships:
Marie Du Lac - mother, deceased
Fin Padraig- father, deceased
Etta Lacroix- maternal aunt, living in Osprey
Gerrik Lacroix- uncle, living in Osprey
Gemma Lacroix- cousin, living in Osprey
Other: Agnes talks to the baby a lot.
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Species: a common mouse, nothing special
Occupation: Right now, she’s a traveler.
Physical Appearance: Aggie is a pretty girl, but not overly gorgeous. In a crowded room, she might glean a second look from some, but not a third. She takes after her mother’s side of the family, as far as looks go, with her Du Lac dark blue eyes and straight black hair. Her eyes are usually bright and smiling, and her hair is usually left down to hang at her shoulders.
Agnes is rather short, about a head under the average, and while normally curvy, at this late stage in her pregnancy, she’s twice as curvy. She’ll occasionally joke that she looks like a fertility statue. However, it’s not all fluff. There’s muscle under all that baby gain and padding. She’s got strong legs from walking for three seasons, and work hardened, well calloused hands.
As far as markings go, she takes after her mother there, too: a gentle soft goldish color all over, with a lighter underbelly and darker, almost brown ears.
Possessions: A green tunic and tan breeches, both a size and a half too big, to accommodate her slowly growing baby. A soft cotton dress, also overlarge. It’s slightly nicer than the tunic and breeches, but not by much. It’s kind of thread bare, honestly, but it’s comfortable in the summer heat and she can move easily in it.
A big, warm traveler’s cloak. It’s rather dear to her, as the clasp is the one from her father’s old cloak.
A battered leather pack she bartered off a weasel for half a jug of cider. It came with a little tin mess kit, too. Bowl, knife and fork, even a little hammered tin mug.
A chipped but serviceable dagger, and a pouch of palm- sized stones, for throwing. Not her favorite, or best, weapon. That would be her short spear. But it’s getting more use as an impromptu tent pole than a weapon at this point.
The bottom of her pack has it’s fair share of flotsam and little things that always, inevitably filter down to the bottom of packs and get forgotten. Things like scraps of rope and a leather packet of fishhooks, dust made from the crumbs of old bread and dried up herbs and flowers. If she were to upend the pack, she’d be shocked at how many little things she’s been carrying around in there.
She carries little for purely sentimental reasons. She’s got a few little trinkets that have been given to her from friends she’s met while traveling. Pretty pebbles and small carvings of goddesses and gods and bearers of good luck and safe travels. Most are things she’s accumulated on the road. She only brought one purely sentimental thing with her from the beginning, though: the necklace that’s been in her mother’s family so long no one really knows which ancestor had it first. Carved, rounded beads of a wood that came from some far off place. Hard as pearls the beads are, and black as pitch. Shiny as it, too, from generations of fingers stroking and fidgeting with the beads.
Personality: Aggie is...well, her mother always described her as ‘feisty’, and that is quite the word to describe her. Agnes is bright and quick to laugh and smile. She has patience as deep as a lake for those who deserve it. And none at all for those who don’t. She doesn’t suffer fools and has a sarcastic bite when she wants. She inherited both her parents’ tempers, and won’t be sorry to use them if needs be. Added to that is her insistence to have the last word, almost about anything, in good temper or in bad. She’s learning how to hold her tongue, though, because she really doesn’t want to have to get into a scrap while she’s as ungainly as she is. The only thing she can’t learn to hold back is her colorful vocabulary. Her father was a soldier and her mother was a tavern owner. She’s had quite the extensive education in swearing.
With patience comes stubbornness, something else that Aggie has in spades. Wearing down a brick wall would be easier sometimes.
She’s loyal to her friends and even to her transient companions on the road. She likes to talk, and uses her hands when she does. Her friendly nature might make her seem a decent target for bandits and the like, but she’s watchful, too, and knows how to spot someone trying to sneak up on her.
Aggie gets lonely though, sometimes, when traveling alone for long stretches of time. And while she’s unashamed to be this pregnant, this young, and unmarried, it irks her when others decide that because she isn’t weeping in shame every step of the way that they’re better than her, and refuse to talk to her. And sometimes at night, while she’s lonely and tired, she gets to worrying about whether or not she should be ashamed. Ir if she’s going to be a good mother to her child. And what she’s going to do, once she’s got to settle down for good. She has no idea of any of that yet, and she’s a little scared about it.
Aggie doesn’t care about the whole vermin thing. If you’re willing to be decent and be good company, if you’re willing to help when asked, then she’s willing to be your friend. If you’re going to be an ass, though, or try to pinch her stuff, well, obviously you don’t need a friend but a real good pop on the nose. She’s seen and experienced enough to know that good and bad aren’t traits of one kind of beast or another. It’s a choice.
Strengths: She knows how to fight dirty when necessary. Good aim, can throw a spear like a champ. She knows how to keep bees, and make fishing nets.
Weaknesses: Vulnerable because she’s pregnant and not as agile as she would like to be. Has a temper and a mouth that has, and surely will again, land her in trouble. Her plans for the future are vague at best. She tires easily right now. She's lonely, and probably lets her guard down too much. She turns into a screaming, flailing child when faced with a spider.
History: Agnes is the only child of Marie Du Lac and Fin Padraig. Marie owned a small inn in the swamps skirting a larger village, and Fin was a retired Northland soldier looking for a warmer life. It wasn’t quite love at first sight, but eventually they got their ducks in a row and had Agnes.
Aggie was something of a free spirit, and that was only augmented by her childhood running through the swamps and bayous that lay less than a day inland from the Western shores and far past even the Southsward. She ran and got muddy and played with the other children growing up in the swamping community. Her mother took her along when she went to tend her hives, and Aggie learned about smoking and scraping and how to find a queen amongst all her subjects. She had a large extended family, and from them she learned how to repair and make nets, how to fish and trap crawfish, and how to find her way in the maze-like swamp.
Her father was a retired soldier, and while he was happy to hang his spear up for good, he did take it down to teach his little girl how to use it without gutting herself too. He had also acquired a taste for larger communities in his travels, and often took her to the bustling town of Osprey when he went. It was loud and kind of dirty and there were always all kinds of beasts from all kinds of places, and it fascinated Agnes. It was a large town, boating a few gristmills and a saw mill, forges and apothecaries. Hundreds of beasts lived and worked in Osprey, and the large town square was used as an open air market. That attracted more beasts, of both good and bad intent. It was quite a place, Osprey. She decided early on that she’d rather live someplace quieter, though.
When she was ten, though, her childhood in the swamp ended. Her mother’s Inn caught fire, and while trying to get everyone to safety, Marie and Fin perished. It devastated the young Agnes. What was worse, though, was that upon hearing of her sister’s death, Etta Lacroix nee Du Lac, came and (a little reluctantly) took Aggie away, back to Osprey.
Etta had never liked living in the buggy, wet, swamp, not when there was a beautiful town just hours away. She married as soon as she could, to a promising young merchant that had, over the years, made a small fortune and lived in a fine house. But as little as she liked the swamp, she loved her sister. Maybe not her sister’s husband or their little spawn, but definitely Marie. And she had promised to take care of Agnes should anything happen to her and Fin. And so, because she loved her sister and a promise was a promise, she took Agnes in.
It was obvious from the start that her Aunt Etta was about as displeased by the situation as Aggie was. They didn’t talk to each other except to argue, and Aggie felt stifled in the large manor house with it’s fine tapestries and strange luxuries. She ran away often, and was returned back to Osprey and her aunt just as often. Eventually, she and Etta..well, they didn’t quite make peace with each other, but the reached a stalemate. Often, they avoided each other. When they did see one another, they rarely talked. It wasn’t quite peace, but it was better than the alternative.
Because she was the niece of a fine lady, Aggie was educated just as well as her aunt’s daughter. She can read, write, sing in tune and can even play an instrument. If she tried, she could almost pass for nobility. But Aggie had never aspired to climb society's ladder, and once she was old enough, started slipping out onto the streets of Osprey. Here, she learned how to scrap and fight dirty, how to climb and boast and sharpen her tongue. Her extensive vocabulary of colorful swears was put to good use. And, after one particularly bad fight, she was inspired to again take up her short spear lessons. She grew skilled. She was happy.
Aggie often watched patrols of militia and even the occasional far-reaching Long Patrol slip in and out of the town, and decided that following in her father’s footsteps was what she wanted to do with her life. At least for a while. It was only an added bonus that it made all the blood drain from Aunt Ettie’s face when she announced her decision at dinner.
But only a few days after this decision was made, Agnes’ plans changed for good. All kinds of beasts wander through Osprey, and while most are civil, some aren’t. Aggie was attacked from behind just a short walk from home. It was a blessing, probably, that she can’t remember anything past being dragged into the alley and getting hit on the head with a rock. But it was a brutal attack, one that left her hurting something terrible.
After the attack, Etta was more than adamant that Agnes stay close, stay inside, stay where things couldn't hurt her anymore. This was done partly because in some small way, she had grown close to Agnes over the years. Or, at least to their constant sniping at each other. And she had promised her sister to take care of the raggamuffin, after all.
Agnes, even if she was just as slightly fond of their animosity as Etta was, found staying inside all the time to be stifling. She grew angry, and then furious, and finally, there was an argument between the two women to end all arguments.
That was close to three seasons ago, and after deciding to go north, Aggie is firmly in Mossflower territory, heavily pregnant, and is thinking about settling down, at least for a bit.
Relationships:
Marie Du Lac - mother, deceased
Fin Padraig- father, deceased
Etta Lacroix- maternal aunt, living in Osprey
Gerrik Lacroix- uncle, living in Osprey
Gemma Lacroix- cousin, living in Osprey
Other: Agnes talks to the baby a lot.
