I am Tiahana. Named so by my mothers father, Grandpa Beriol. Who claimed to have had a dream once, where a draconian woman stood proud bearing the family crest, seems my mother agreed that must have been me.
I was born a Draconian, for reasons unknown to me. Though one of my uncle-in-laws swears he saw my grandmother flick a forked tounge when she was upset on occasion, though I suspect he was just scared of her.
The night my mother passed… I could not sleep well. I was tossing and turning all night. I dreamed of a great dark figure, looming above me. I felt connected to it somehow, like it was beckoning to me. Trying to give me something. The following morning I awoke with a deep brown sigil on my forearm. It almost looked like some form of birthmark or a freckle… though it did not burn my scales or hurt at all. It was In the form of a crescent moon, struck through by two lines horizontally, with a small space between the two halves.
In my time alive, 16 winters according to the years of man I have seen little of the world, though I long Growing up I was alway seen amongst The Towns youth as a timid girl, being draconian didn't help. One who, though not shy, did not socialize well. Despite this I always tried to do my best to help the folk of the land, where they needed it. Of course, the coppers I could earn were a good, if meager, incentive.
I stand at 5 foot, 9 inches, with the lean but stout body of a hard working lightly under-fed Draconian woman. My pale yellow/tan scales make it almost impossible to tell that I am not human from afar. Though the lack of hair on my head and the purplish tinge to my ears, eyes and veins seem to clue people in quickly. If even only after a double take. My mother always claimed I have a bronze glow about me, particularly in the moonlight… I think she was trying to flatter me… but since that sigil appeared on my arm… I suspect she knew something more than she had ever told me.
As one who spent much time alone I have found myself quite adept with a Staff and a Shortbow. Though I yearn to gain the knowledge of Wizards and Sorcerers. If I could find a college or guild that could help me obtain those skills, I believe it could be quite useful in my travels. So that I may become something of a battle mage. I hope to be able to travel the land and seek knowledge and power to help me grow. I'm not sure about this Ruler of Kings thing, I've always heard whispers around town, and my mother was never shy to speak to me of the words that seemingly came to her after her labor. But I need a little more information, and I suspect the sigil on my arm will be significant in that too.
I understand my naivety, and I want to do all I can to meet the expectations of my late mother. I plan to start by offering my services as something of a bounty hunter or mercenary… though I suppose I need to find a troop willing to take on an inexperienced dragonborne.
As I sit here at my late mothers table, brooding over the choices to come I feel something stirring within me… maybe I've felt it my whole life, but my mothers death has done something to me… and I intend to learn what.
*Dear Dungeon Master I'm not sure if I've gone overboard… so please let me know if some of the information here is too much or too little. Or maybe not the right place for it. Or even too misplaced to match up with the story or lore of the world.*.
A Sentimental Value
On my finger this journey, lies one of my families only treasures. A modest ring. The ring my father used to propose to my mother, some 14 years prior to my conception. It bears almost no markings, save for the scuffs of wear, and 3 lines engraved on either side of the ring. One of them 3/4 one of them 1 centimeters long. The first two to represent my mother and father respectively, and their bond to eachother. And there is a small notch on the top between the two lines, small and clearly not as gracefully crafted as the other two etchings. Thats me, in all my imperfect perfections. Ill keep this ring forever. As a reminder to myself of my mothers love. And maybe one day, I can show my father… and feel some bind to him, be it here or in the afterlife.
As I walked into town the evening after my mothers passing, wearing nothing but my farmers clothes under a simple cloak and a pair of traveling boots, a leather satchel containing in it my journal, ink, feather pen, the deed to the land where my parents cottage sits and a few days worth of hard tack. Entering town I felt the tingle of eyes upon me. On edge I grasped my travel cane and stepped to the side of the road, feigning interest in a shop. Before I could enter, a man called out.
"Ho there, Madam Tiahana!"
Turning to face the man, I gasped in shock. It was Percy, one of fathers mates from the war! He was the companies messenger, and a damn good one from what I heard. He stood before me, clad in a set of beaten medium armor. He grinned at me, clasping my shoulder. "We have much to discuss, have you a moment to talk? I have a room at the officers barracks"
Though my prior meetings with Percy were always brief, he was one of my only direct links to my father. He would come through town every few months, bearing news and letter from my Father. Occasionally he would have trinkets or gifts, on one occasion he even brought chocolates, a rare treat indeed!
It has been some 2 years since I saw him last. Seeing him here brought back a flood of memories and emotions. Why is he here? What news does he have of Father? If he has been in town, Why wasn't he at my coming of age celebration?
As we sat at the table in his room, drinking ale and stale bread, he told me of his time the last few years of his efforts in the battles, and his rise to captain of his garrison and his subsequent relief from duty, as he had met the required time in service to be allowed to retire. Though, It seems he has done so by request of my father, who still maintains post to the north. Percy still holds status in the army and order over a garrison of men in town.
Percy, in our talks, claimed that he believes my mother truly did have a prophetic vision the day I was born, nearly 16 years ago to the day. He offered at least his council if not his allegiance in the task burdened upon me. I suspect he holds some reservations on the abilities of a young dragon born woman to take command of lands yet unknown to her..to me. I see our paths crossing often in the coming days, months, years to come.
Most beautiful lady of Tiahana
I remember the first time I saw her. She stood atop a hill outside of town, as the harvest festival roared around me. My heart skipped a beat as I noticed her. Red hair, shining like fiery copper in the sun. She was not a small woman, 5' 10' . A white frilled brown dress adorned her petit breasts and cascaded down her hardy hips. Though she was beautiful, it was clear she had a similar strength as my own, that only comes from the absence of a father or brothers to do the hard labor of life. In my attempts to get near to her, her freckle speckled smile and blusterous laugh pierced my heart. Her eyes a vibrant emerald green. In stark contrast to most citizens, she adorned a small ring to the side of her nose… though I don't know what it means, there must be some significance as I have never seen such an adornment before. Though with the butterflies in my stomach, I did not approach her… I will keep my eyes out in the town for her. I asked the carnie If he knew her name… Gwen.