"The crows warned me of your coming"
Age: 26
Gender:female
Height:5,4
Weight:120
Kingdom of Origin: Yusinostra
Town of Origin: Fredrick
Occupation: Herbalist/Guide/Undertaker
Is your character a Guardian? No
If no, does your character support the Vigil or go against them? Currently against as she sees humans bonding with dragons as a potential shift in power. That shift in power could result in wars over who processes these new weapons regardless of original intentions of bringing back the species mankind destroyed..or so they thought. Her allegiance is to her own existence and that of her beloved Murder, not that she would turn a blind eye to the offer of gold or assistance by a passerby.
Personality:In the her past, many would describe her personality as a light and cheerful one that slowly began to fade as she aged. Now isolating herself from the rest of the world in the Malum Forest to say she is not social would be an understatement, very few people actually hear her voice. Despite being a selective mute she can have a energetic moment if something is exciting or new to her. Can be extremely short-tempered of people who attempt to cross her regardless of the reason right or wrong.
History:The daughter of two farmers, her childhood was filled with both difficult times and loving ones. Her father was away frequently to guide merchants through the Woods of the Wanderer, a forest that could quickly become perilous place if one were to take steps in the wrong direction or not seeking shelter before nightfall. This work provided some extra income for the family, yet was a dangerous occupation regardless of how trained her father was in the ways of survival. As she aged to that of blossoming young lady she began to feel the similar urge to explore the nature surrounding her, despite her mother's protests. Her peaceful life began to fall apart at the age of seventeen with multiple marriage offers from strangers of other villages. Not willing to be bound to a single place, even worse under the thumb of a man domineering her daily..she quickly began refusing offers. This was a distressing factor for her parents, who were aging and feeling the need for grandchildren. A few months went by with suitors being rejected by a dismissive Kesia. It all changed the night her father was escorting traveling merchants through the forest and never came out around sunrise as it had always been.
Her simple life crumbled as she came upon her father bleeding out on the cold ground, with multiple bite wounds to his body seemingly from wolves. As she felt her father's heartbeat slow to a stop, she closed his eyes before following the sounds of howling. What was she thinking armed only with a small dagger attempting to take on a pack of man-eating wolves? Nothing, except revenge..upon entering the clearing a few doglike bodies laid here and there, yet her main concern was that of a bleeding man laying beneath an old oak tree. It was the merchant who had once visited her home filling her ears with legends and myths of magic and dragons..both long since forgotten by all but travelers. Tears of rage began springing from light brown eyes as she pressed bandages made from her own clothing against the grave wounds of the wordsmith who merely blinked at her slowly before pressing a cool piece of jewelry into her palm. It was a mere fragment of an deep green emerald, nearly black in the light of moon..it was warm to the touch as if a tiny heartbeat lay inside it. Then the larger heartbeat of the merchant stopped and the remaining wolves of the feral pack returned..hungry for the flesh of the corpse. Blinded by the hatred of nature and her own misfortunate, guttural screams ripped from her throat with each solve falling to her rage..until the last predator turned into prey by the blade of the dagger. Her anger had faded and turned to despair as it felt as flames burned at her vocal words with each sob escaping her throat..her grasp on the fragment cutting into her skin. What was happening to her?
As she found herself crouched and stained with blood, a single sound broke her from her trance that was a bird's wings brushing against the air before a pair of yellow clawed feet landed cautiously on her shoulder, a large feathered head dipping down examining the fragment clutched in her hand with intelligent eyes. Hesitantly lifting the gem to the crow's beak..the same flame racing through her veins at the connection between human and crow, distorted fragments of the memories of the crow from its..or his point of view. Rubbing her hands over her eyes in disbelief to chase the images away..was this a magic artifact? Would this fragment allow her to 'speak' to this one crow? Were there others? With newfound hope in her heart she returned to her lonely home with her newfound 'pet' on her shoulder. Her mother merely broke down in tears at the sight of her bloodied daughter, the omen of death on her shoulder, her once enchanting voice turned silent. Crazed with grief she shunned her daughter and wordlessly slammed the door on her face. Now alone with only her thoughts and a seemly intelligent bird she began to wander beyond the borders of her beloved Woods of the Wanderer, becoming like its namesake and wandering the land.
Eventually her wandering feet brought her to the village of Os' Abil, where many feared her strange magnetic pulls to crows that seemed to circle her calling with loud cries, yet a reaper of souls she was not as she gained the trust of few by helping aid those who were ill with remedies made from plants deep in Malum Forest. Despite this given talent, many of the villagers did not dare take remedies which ingredients had once been in mouth of an omen of death..was she not in fact a healer at all but a witch of legend? Secrets turned into rumors and rumors turned into half-truths..as the years went by Kesia found herself preferring the company of nature and her crows in the secluded heart of Malum, creating remedies for those desperate enough to find her home. That is not to say she kept out of touch with the human world as stories of the Vigil began reaching her ears...now she waits for the tide to change for better or worse.
So she sits waiting in her humble cottage listening to the peaceful lapping waters of the river and the caws of her crows. When will the day come when powerful strangers come through the curtains of willow trees seeking answers of illness or for those who wish to make use of her talent? She has no allegiance to those claiming for moral good or evil, the simple offering of a fragment of her 'Crow-speak' amulet is enough to sate her curiosity. The only question is who will seek out the 'Witch of Malum?'
Connections: N/A
Special Skills:
Owner of a fragment of the 'Crow-Speak' amulet. While it may be a simple dark emerald to others, it is her connection to nature. Despite its small size it has blessed its magical attributes on Kesia allowing her to understand her 'familiar' Omen through the use of pictures from memories. It also seems to act as natural magnet to other crows, some becoming friendly enough around for human touch and use. Despite her understanding of various calls, she cannot control a crow directly..at least until more fragments are found.
Herbalist-Knowledge in picking plants that could either kill or save someone's life. Useful enough skill when living on your own with little human contact.
Undertaker-Has seen many a dead body during her time as a healer, becoming quite adept at understanding the causes of death of victims. This skill is one that is not well-liked by many as bringing crows around corpses is seen as bad luck. Still someone has to be able to properly bury a body..
Knife-play- Has some talent in fighting with knives, despite her passive tendencies she is willing to get her hands bloodied if needed.
Tracking- Can read the paw prints of many a forest creature ranging from bears to wolves with ease. Still not very adept at tracking the shoes of humans or dragons yet..