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keylimebi · 10-02-2020, 03:01 AM

Name: Miriam Arabella Cornswallop/Srylixamiril aka “Miri”

Description: Despite looking almost exactly like a kobold, Miri is not, in fact, a kobold. She is a Halfling dragonborn, leaning more heavily into the draconic ancestry than the majority of her family. Her usual clothing is fairly comfortable and practical, nothing that she wouldn’t mind getting messy as she does her hands-on artisan work. She’s often splattered over with dried pieces of candle wax, speckles of color that show up easily on her soft grey scales. Miri does, of course, have a tail as well as a pair of weak gossamer wings that are usually kept safely tucked out of the way.

She’s in her early to mid twenties, and smiles with an easy pleasantness that makes her shop even more popular to visit. Miri’s the kind of person who would gaze longingly out a window imagining entire stories where she’s the brave protagonist, but in reality memorizes, prints out, and has the fantasy GPS set so she doesn’t get lost on the way to a new place that’s twenty minutes from her own home. And then leaves with ten minutes to spare anyway. Just in case.

Place of Origin: Miri has spent her entire life in the capital city of Serkarth within the Midnight Sea.

Bio:

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SpoilerMiriam, as with many people, used to be an Entire Rapscallion as a child. Running along the streets, climbing (relatively safe) buildings, being a general nuisance? That was her specialty. And there was no one else she enjoyed doing this with more than her best friend, Oralee (Rally if you're cool), a local kobold who was just as good at getting into trouble as Miri was at getting out of it. These two were thick as thieves, and grew up swapping ideas and plans for the future. The one that always came back was the two of them, out in the world, taking what they wanted and living free as can be.

Once she hit her early teenage years, Miri started having to put in time apprenticing under her parents in their artisan candle shop. Candle working turned out to be meditative and a creative outlet, and Miri found herself mellowing out over the years. When the time came and a sixteen year old Oralee approached fifteen year old her with a plan out of the city and a traveling bag ready for two, she turned them down.

“We aren’t actually adventurers,” Miri said, before ticking off her fingers. “We’ve never left the city, we’ve never won a fight – don’t look at me like that, the time with the butcher’s son doesn’t count, we’ve talked about this– hell, neither of us know how to cook! We can’t just…do this.”

“C’mon, Miri. I’d take care of it! You be the brains, I’ll be the looks and brawn and all the rest of it! This is it, what are you waiting for?”

She just couldn’t do it. And so Rally made a promise, then and there – they’d go and learn what they could and come back, and when she was ready, they’d go.

“It sounds like a really, really cool adventure.” She'd laughed, ignoring how wet it sounded. “ I wish I could come. Really. But…maybe next time?”

Time trudged on and although she always kept an ear out for the familiar sound of Rally kicking in the door or sneaking in the back to try and surprise her, there was no word. But that was fine. Miri had learned patience, and she was very good at finding ways to remain content. And so she did, keeping her parent’s shop – eventually her own, once they retired – running and creating a new catalogue of candles said to invoke the spirits of the true dragons past to come and grant just a bit of help when needed. And the years passed. She went from being a young teen to a young adult, which really just meant that she was more willing to admit that she didn’t know what she was doing with life. But still, she kept going.

Now you see, the funny thing about childhood dreams and fantasies is that every so often, something will come along and ignite up that passion again. For Miri, that spark was overhearing some acquaintances at a local grocers gossiping about the latest acts of Saros, a new and mysterious figure that seemed to help those in need and steal the most impossible items for no discernible reason other than desire. Suddenly, Miri had something new to focus on. She’d ask around and gather the information she could, building up the profile of this mysterious Saros, following along with the different cases and rumors. Some say that they stole an enchanted staff right under the nose of an Archon of Zenith and used their moth familiar to make an aerial get away. Others say no, it was a tooth from the Leviathan – but like, a small one. Miri collected all of this with a wistful smile as she realized that whoever this Saros was, they were just like she and Rally had pretended to be as a children. Maybe if this Saros could be out there, thieving and thriving, perhaps Rally was making it work as well.

Then one night an unexpected visitor broke into the shop. Saros had made a hit that night that had gone wrong, and had chosen this building of all buildings to hide from the city guard. Miri, feeling an old flicker of deviance come to life, pointed the guard away and sent them on a wild chase and granting the thief ample time to make their escape. And before they did, they paused in the doorway, the streetlights illuminating the outline of their silhouette as they sweep into a dramatic bow.

“Afraid I must be off. I’d love to have stayed longer, but…maybe next time?”

And if those words sounded familiar, or that smirk clicked into just the right angle, well...she definitely wasn’t about to say. Miri just watched, eyes wide, as Saros disappeared into the night to continue thieving and thriving.

And she definitely was going to have to get rid of the drawer of Saros sketches she’d been making. Rally would never let her live that down if they found out.

Ambition:

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Contacts:

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