Trill Riversong

[Trill Riversong]

Your character's full name: Trill Riversong; Mistshadow
Age: 17 years
Species: Squirrel
Gender: Female
Allegiance: Neutral
Appearance:

Trill's thick fur is a smoky looking blue grey that is dull and coarse feeling because she rarely eats properly and often neglects it. She's not dirty or smelly though she looks as if she might be. Her body is whip cord thing and while she is not terribly tall for a Squirrel she seems almost diminutive as she is almost constantly slouching.

If you get close to her it is possible to see a faint line in her fur that runs several inches back from her ear. It marks the spot where a once particularly brutal looking scar mars her skull.

Bright blue eyes are the only thing about her that seem to stand out other then the general oddness of her too bland appearance. Even her clothes are drab, she dresses in nothing more then a grey tunic and vest that match her fur with a tarp pinned like a cape around her shoulders. Were it not for her almost too large eyes it would not be hard to imagine her just fading away into a misty day never to be seen again.

Belongings:

-Grey vest of many pockets
-12 Throwing Knives
-Bead making tool
-String
-Flint and tender
-A water proof tarp
-2 grey tunics
-Loose grey trousers

Appearances can be deceiving and the parable certainly applies to her vest. Aside from the almost silly number of visible pockets there are quite a few that you cant see and they all hold rather interesting things. Aside from the bits of crystal and shiny river stones she fancies there are knives of the throwing sort, little glass bottles of poison, bead making tools and more then her fair share of bits of string.

Job or Position:

Bead maker, taker of odd jobs

Personality:

Quiet, thoughtful and alert to the point of paranoia Trill doesn’t really tend to make waves and keeps her eyes out for those who do. Avoiding trouble is her number one goal in any situation.

It would be easy to mistake her for a mute unless you asked her a direct question that she felt she had a reason to answer. Don't expect sudden bursts of poetry though or even full words, if an answer can be fit into a single syllable then it will be. This combined with her naturally closed expression makes her seem detached. She also seems fidgety until you realize that she isn’t moving so much as seemingly full of the potential to spring into action at any moment. Like she’s constantly poised to dodge an attack even when she’s relaxing.

As far as morals go if things come to a fight she'll side with who ever she happens to be traveling with so long as it doesn’t put her into unnecessary danger when flight is an option. Even if it means abandoning a traveling companion to certain death she’ll save her own skin. She is not without guilt but her stunted moral compass isn't enough to over ride her sense of self preservation, not by a long shot.

History and Background Information:

Trill didn't have much of one before her sixth winter, or at least not one that she could remember. Taken by Vermin from who knows where her earliest memories were of long marches through dank woods and a constant gnawing hunger. There weren't many others in the way of fellow captives and even fewer who lasted more then a few months before they either died or were sold off so she was alone for the most part. The Vermin slavers were there but not the greatest conversationalists as they tended to answer questions with the lash of a whip or a love tap from a staff. It was about then that she developed the habit of watching her captors and humming to deal with her almost constant boredom.

Seasons passed and as it became more and more apparent that the Vermin had some special fate in mind for her Trill became less interested in finding out what it was and started looking for opportunities to escape. No heroic or even plausible one presented itself at first but observing the Vermin for so long had taught her more then one thing no Goodbeast would have though to do.

So it was that one night after the slavers raided a home and fell to gorging themselves on the spoils she stole the key to her bonds and once they fell into a drunken stupor freed herself and the few other captives. Admirable, brave, quick witted, that’s what the Goodbeats called her until she crept back into the camp despite there protests. What she did next horrified her fellow former captives into utter silence. At a mere ten winters she crept quietly between the sleeping Vermin and neatly slit there throats as they lay snoring so that they would never wake to pursue the escapees.

When she walked out of the camp shortly after with a bloody knife in hand no one questioned her but she could feel there disapproval. As they fled the scene of Trills gruesome act she slipped off into the night to make her own way. The Goodbeasts had hesitantly offered to take her in but Trill found there revulsion confusing and was reluctant to let anyone have any sort of authority over her at the time.

They had not stopped far from a river town that night and she stopped there rather then going further on. After a while spent in the community she took on the name Trill for the first time and decided to settle there for a few seasons. She was painfully young but quick to pick up things and bright despite her demeanor. She made a fair living by begging, a touch of stealing and taking the few odd jobs that she could find around the towns docks.

The town folk took piety on her and after a while accepted her as a tenuous member of there community, giving her food and basic things like blankets though she rejected the idea of letting anyone take her into there household properly. It was not long before the unasked for kindness began to affect Trill and much to her own dismay she found that the company of Goodbeast had soured her taste for theft and begging.

It was as if there was something wrong with the way she was living, and possibly her. A nagging feeling that something was not right that she didn't understand plagued her. To rid her self of the feeling she decided to try her hand at traveling and see where it would take her in more then once sense.

Since the day she left her temporary home she has been a great many place but has learned little of her own nature though the nagging sense of wrongness began growing and spread to other areas. Like a strange disease it turned her priory simple life upside down causing her strange bouts of unease and more frighteningly, guilt.

Now in hopes of finding an answer she has at last turned her feet toward Redwall Abbey and the rumored wisdom of its famed Abbots and other leaders.

Any other details:

When forced into combat Trill fights like a demon with no compunction about killing. She lashes out with her powerful legs and knives, every strike is meant to kill or maim. Guilt may fallow but it would not sway her during a fight, she is hardwired for survival above all else.

Trill is almost constantly quietly humming to herself unless she is being addressed by someone directly or concentrating on something. She appears unaware of the habit and when she is alone she sings quietly to herself instead.

She has a good singing voice though it is a bit low for a Squirrel maid. Her speaking voice sounds likewise if you ever happen to hear it let alone her singing one.

[carabadgermum]

okay umm wow
approved!