Talia din Merdis

An orphaned Atha'an Miere that now seeks what little happiness remains to her on the mainland.

Description:

Raw Stats
Current Level: 4
Max HP: 28
AC: 20
BAB: +3

Ability Scores
STR 15
DEX 20
CON 14
INT 11
WIS 12
CHA 15

Saves
FORT: 3
REFL: 8
WILL: 3

Weapons & Equipment
Dagger (1d4, 19-20 crit for x2)
Rapier (1d6, 18-20 crit for x2)
Seanchan scimitar (1d8, 19-20 crit for x2) – not proficient

Waterskin
Sack
Bowl
Bedroll
Rope (10ft)
Flint & steel
Torch x4
Winter blanket

Plain metal earring x1 (left ear)

Bio:

Talia din Merdis’ Journal

“Fortune favors no man but Death.” That was a phrase Talia din Merdis often heard throughout her childhood, courtesy of her belligerent father. Or was he really just a master? She was not sure. She only knew this piece of advice to be his most truthful, for her life had been hell for longer than she could remember. Born of the Sea Folk, she fell overboard during a rough storm—pushed aside by another sailor, no doubt—and swam as hard as she could, away from the ship. When she finally came ashore, she was snatched up by a large, balding fisherman—her father-master now—and made into an immediate workhorse. Men like him could only dream of a personal servant, and with a small Atha’an Miere to do all the work and look “exotic” besides, he’d become a celebrity overnight. All on the back of this one child.
She longed for a reason to escape, but she would be noticed anywhere. And she longed for the sea, though she could see it from her home. He would not permit her to go near the ocean, no matter how she begged. He even prevented her from setting foot on his paltry little ship! It was enough to set her blood aflame. He wasn’t against holding her head underwater for a good prank, though, or dangling her from a rope he’d pulled from his own ship just to show the other fishermen “what a catch” he’d found on his shores.
When she reached fourteen, the suffering reached its apex, for the man had discovered other ways to torture her, ways to please himself. Fearful and furious, she at last fled, carrying nothing with her but the clothing on her back and a handful of coins she swiped from a table. Wherever she were to go next, it had to be better than here.

(This will be appended and amended as time goes on.)

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Talia din Merdis

The Wheel of Time Wraenna