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Post by smacrasmacrasmacra on Aug 14, 2016 19:51:51 GMT -5
 (if the eyes were brown)  (again, if eyes were brown. Skin is a decent bit darker for her than both images)      Height: 3' 6" (107 cm) Build: A bit skinny, knobby knees and elbows. classic gnome forearms. Eyes: Brown Hair: a mussy, choppy auburn, populated by the odd bug Skin: an ashy olive, almost gray tinged, the color of light shale. usually bearing cuts and scrapes from crashing about in the brush Voice: husky and with the matter of fact, folksy tone of the Western Heartlands Scent: she smells often of forest litter, dirt, formic acid, pine, and mushrooms. with her control of plants and bugs, it is earthy but not unpleasant. Tattoos: she has two, on her shins. They depict temperate forest vines twisting up and around her legs, peopled with bugs, acorns, and pine cones. partially hidden, but easily seen, are these gnomic words: Left: Pa Ajan Lineuic (gnome for "Be Ever Curious") Right: Vummuf Meva Franajan Ed Syo Mayt ("Follow Life Wherever It May Lead") They are the words she lives by, and the heart of the dogma of her deity, Baervan Wildwanderer. Mannerisms: When traveling with Nersha, one would note the almost erratic movements as she starts and stops, speeds up and slows down, bobs and weaves. She often pauses, gaze up and at nothing in particular, as she sorts out the sounds in the distance. She tends to seat herself on her haunches, pulling her knees up under her chin and hugging her shins. She eats quickly, putting as much food into her mouth at once as possible. Through a lifetime of doing it, she's gotten to the point where she eats about half of her food and stores the rest in her cheeks, like a chipmunk or squirrel. Dress: Her armor is plate of fine make, modeled to look like pinecones at the pauldrons and grieves. Much of it is dulled, brushed steel. Significant portions are covered in custom fabric & leather sheathings, making it look duller and more organic. The sheathing also allows her bugs to crawl around in more places and have a better home, while also giving her more strapping/harness points for her gear and kit. She sports a green hood, as is customary of Baervan's clergy. When not prepared for battle, she wears a simple small top, a short set of breeches, comfortable and durable shoes, and a belt with many pouches as well as a backpack. At all times she has a ceramic disc with a relief of a raccoon's face, painted green, brown, and black, hanging from a simple cord around her neck. |
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Post by smacrasmacrasmacra on Aug 14, 2016 21:54:36 GMT -5
Nersha was born Corm Orp, near Darkhold in the Western Heartlands.
She ran wild through the hinterlands of her youth, carefree and joyously experiencing the outdoors with friends and family alike.
She came to know the mysteries of Baervan Wildwanderer through the timid ministrations of a forest gnome priest named Gupta. Tutelage was more akin to hazing, as prank after prank taught her humility and life lessons.
Attended the wedding of her uncle Skookum, who had been training to be a wizard in Baldur's Gate, and a kindly local man named Diggum Gobbledeegook.
Years passed and the Gobbledeegooks moved to Cormyr. A few weeks later, Nersha followed after, overcome by the call of the open road.
Arrived in Cormyr just around Shieldmeet, in her 70th year. Made friends and explored, and before long lost her memory of her Cormyrian travels when Chiktikka, Baervan's unruly raccoon companion, disrupted his answer to her prayers.
Re-explored the areas she'd been to, re-met friends for the first time again, and before long recovered what she had lost. Blessed from the opportunity, she set out with renewed confidence in her chosen path.
Discovered Diggum's death and was awash in grief. More so than his death, her fear that she had been lied to and betrayed by her friends, specifically Aedre, she bitterly investigated the possibilities.
Encountered Skookum in Greatgaunt and had a small, heartfelt reunion, helping to heal them both.
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Post by smacrasmacrasmacra on Aug 24, 2016 0:09:26 GMT -5
Breathed a sigh of relief as she discovered her friends honestly hadn't made the connection between her Uncle and Aedre's daughter.
Began actively soliciting stories from others, hoping they would help her explore "perfect impressions" rather than allowing first impressions to falsely color her perception.
Made a few handwritten flyers and gave them to her friends to hand out. She hopes those inneed of getting something off their chests or seeking understanding will seek her out at the Griffon.
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Post by smacrasmacrasmacra on Sept 13, 2016 7:40:31 GMT -5
Initially sought to join and then decided against joining the Guardians. She stated she wanted to maintain a state of independence for her clients' benefit.
Continues making connections and friendships, as much as she can.
Is a general busybody.
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Post by smacrasmacrasmacra on Sept 15, 2016 22:08:20 GMT -5
*In shock, Nersha rode from town to town, as fast as the caravans could take her. Every stop, more coin drained from her meager purse but she didn't care. She had to try to find Moonyava. The skinny little gnome girl looked out the side of the jostling cart at the countryside, but she didn't quite see it. Her mind was racing, seeking some solid thought to grasp in the torrent of fear coursing through her mind: what happened to her friend?*
*Another stop, another dead end, another ticket, another ride. Time stretched on and she was left, yet again, with her thoughts. She played it back, the past days of Moonyava seemingly growing a little sullen, but everyone has moods, right? Was it something she could have helped with...was she cold to a friend in need? Did it have to do with the bear-shape, apparently so draining and damaging to the sweet hin druidess?* Hrmmm... *She cleared her throat, the angry knot in it cloying there and unyielding.*
Just the facts, Nersh. Think. *She replayed the incident in her mind.* She'd met Moonyava in the fields east of Greatgaunt and she seemed different. Well, her stance, her dress, her mannerisms, her callous reactions. She seemed like maybe she was trying on a new mien, maybe? People do that, and it didn't seem that strange. Then Aedre showed up and Moon almost immediately left for town. *She furrowed her brow, temporarily locking eyes with a raven on a crossroad direction marker.* We went into town and spoke with her. She kept closing her eyes and dismissing things. She king of seemed agitated by Aedre's presence. We'd recently, Digger and Skookum and I, recovered Diggum's body and, knowing how much Moonyava'd helped him before he passed, with his pipe to control his rage, I thought I'd leave it to her before we left to take his remains to Corm Orp. I tied a little bow on it from sumac strippings and left it on the table in front of her. She could -not- have missed it, nor the significance of it and the bow. That was Diggum's family pipe! It has been with his kin for four generations. Aedre and I left and cleared away a mild goblin threat and when I returned Moon showed up. I asked her if she'd like the gift, hoping it had made her day.
*Nersha leaned back in the rumbling seat of the carriage and stopped fighting the bitter tears.* She said she'd thrown it away. She said she thought it was trash. She practically mocked my surprise and tears.
*Nersha looked out again, watching the raven take flight as the carriage hit a bump in the road and jostled it's lantern loudly. The black bird's wings skirted over and past Selune as it faded away in the distant early evening gloom. Nersha shook her head, wiping her eyes in determination to help fix whatever had happened to her friend. Moonyava's one of the most caring, kind, and joyful people she'd yet met. That was -not- her. That was something else. She turned to face forward and crossed her arms, steeling her resolve.*
That's no Moon...
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Post by smacrasmacrasmacra on Oct 11, 2016 0:10:48 GMT -5
A gentle breeze spilled over the Hullack and disturbed the curtains in an open window, spilling a cascade of mid-morning sunshine onto a dirty gnome's splayed out form. Nersha didn't wake up at the Last Flagon so much as she stopped being passed out. Her mind screeched into motion with the sharp pain of the sunlight searing her sleepy retinas through her eyelids. Her armor still on, she began the task of removing it with a groan. The room lurched around her and she reached a shaky hand to her auburn temple. She tried to piece the night together, flashes and blurry snippets in her mind came to her irregularly as she cleaned herself, dressed, and exited the room to the common floor. A few questions to the staff on hand and she had her answers.
"Oh, crap," she uttered with a dry throat. "That probably wasn't wise."
She set about helping to clean up the inn, attending to any wounded from the goblin attack, and generally trying to apologize to anyone who would remind her of some of the things she'd said the night before.
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