Name: Ceridwen Gadb
Age: 20
Race: Human
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 135
Weapons: She carries a long bow, two short swords, one at each hip and a dagger used for skinning her catch or creating new arrows.
Faction: Neutral
Personality: Ceri is a force of nature, however, she's not had the opportunity to learn any control. Her brothers have always been there to keep her wild spirit in check. While she is kind and loving, her life has taken a severe hit with the loss of her eldest brother, Raylund.
History: She was a normal girl, living a normal life on the west coast of Alionya. Her parents were good to her and her five brothers, there was lots of love in the Gadb home. They had a farm, animals, friends; life was good, peaceful. At 20, Ceridwen was living life exactly as she'd expected. She was the youngest of her siblings and her brothers rarely left her behind. They taught her to hunt and navigate both land and the ocean. Raylund, the oldest, took the most care with her. They had always been close. He had been the only one who knew that she sometimes heard and saw things that didn't fit into their normal. He told her, "Ceri, maybe one day this will serve you. But, now? Now it will only hurt you." He begged her to keep it to herself and she had. That is, until two months ago when her life was changed forever.

Now she found herself days from home, her long legs eating up more ground than most. Hunting and farming had kept her fit, but travelling across Alionya had stretched her both in body and mind. Knowing her family now thought her quite mad had caused her so much grief that she'd sat at the edge of a cliff for two days trying to come to terms with her new life. Raylund had finally convinced her to start moving. In the nick of time, as well. A strange group of men crested a hill near the cliff just as she slipped into the northern forest. Raylund was still keeping her safe, even though he'd died two months ago.

Her dark hair whipped around her as she reached a small clearing in the forest. The curls were tangled with branches and leaves, it made her ache for her home and a warm bath to soothe her tired muscles and wash the dirt and grime from her skin. Her usually vibrant green eyes were swollen from the tears shed for so many weeks. She was empty now and there was a numbness in the center of her chest. The one thing her brothers had teased her about was her temper. It was usually very easy to erupt and, added to a stubborn streak, could often get her into trouble with her brothers. She readjusted her pack and looked ahead. She carried two short swords and her long bow. Her leathers would keep her warm and hopefully keep her somewhat protected. She carried enough food and two changes of clothes along with the dagger she used to form arrows. That stubbornness was finally surfacing again through the well of grief and pushing her forward. To what, she didn't know; but to something.