Shazza Vandalin

[Keleanth Windspiral]

Name: Shazza Vandalin

Age: 26 years/13 seasons

Species: River Otter

Gender: Female

Personality: If one didn’t know any better, they might first mistake Shazza for a hare. Her personality often matches that of the long-eared beasts, a fact in which she often finds pride. The otter is anything but shy, and will strike up a conversation with just about anyone. She is bold, gregarious, and downright mischievious, and has a warm, ready laugh that can fill a room. Though the riverbeast can often be found plotting a good prank, she is anything but malicious. It is rare that Shazza would actually want to harm anyone, and though she practices religiously with her weapons and her steed, and could be considered a fair opponent, she really does not like the idea of fighting. Yet even the most idealistic of beasts can understand the need for self-defense at times. It is a measure of the seriousness of the situation when a smile or the slight twinkle is missing from the otters muzzle or eyes. She is good at finding humor in almost any situation, which more often than not lands her in more trouble than she originally intended. Shazza enjoys making friends, and prefers good conversation to arguments. She has a bit of a temper, but she can usually keep it under control...unless the topic or the battle involves her horse. Magnis, her gelding, is the one thing she will not compromise in any situation, and anyone who dares to harm him often finds that they’ve picked on the wrong creature.

Appearance: Shazza stands at about average height for an otter. Her fur is sand-colored, and bright blue eyes watch the world. It is unusual to find the riverbeast without a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes, though the moments do occasionally arrive. When not in the uniform of the Night Hawks, she prefers plain breeches of brown or black, and a tunic of a blue that matches her eyes. When not in this attire she will be found in riding clothes, for a good portion of her free time is spent in the stable with her horse. Shazza doesn’t usually carry more than a dagger with her, though she is well-versed in the use of a sling and a sword when on foot, and archery while mounted. A pack travels with her when she needs to carry more than a few items, though that generally is reserved for trips that take a day or more. There is a simple necklace of silver and blue that she wears all the time, a little piece of home that remains with her.

Weapons: A sword and dagger, slingshot, and bow/arrows

History:

Horse: Magnis is a seven year old Hanoverian gelding. He stands approximately 15.3 hands high. He's a light bay with socks on his rear pasterns and a white star/stripe/snip on his face. His personality matches that of his rider, and while he's reasonably well trained he has moments of exuberance and the occasional temper tantrum that still place Shazza in the dirt.




TIMELINE

Calling All Knights
Not My Day
Lurking @ the Stables
Assemble the Hawks!

[Keleanth Windspiral]

Character Name: Thorn Silentpaw

Species: Otter (river otter)

Gender: Female

Age: 30 years

Physical Description: Standing shorter than the average river otter, Thorn’s fur is of a medium brown in color, with a touch of mahogany highlighting running through her fur, creating the image of reddish-brown firey streaks running over her body in the right light. Her stomach and throat are distinctly lighter in color, more of a golden brown, with the same mahogany highlights. Upon close examination, one could see the initials “TT” branded deep into her right pawpad. This is not the only mark of battle that she carries, for there are several scars kept hidden by fur, tunic, and breeches, testifying to a life of enduring hardships. Thorn's eyes are a deep, rich, chocolate brown in color, appearing almost black in dim light, though they usually reveal very little of her emotions.
For travel, and everyday wear, she dresses in a short-sleeved or sleeveless loose blue or green tunic, with no special decorations or embroidery. Brown breeches, cut off at the knee, complete the practical outfit. A solitary beast, she has no “formal” sets of clothing, meant for feasts or celebrations of any sort, preferring to maintain her lonely vigil over having the company of several beasts. However, she carries with her a set of black clothes, to be worn only when seeking revenge for friends or family. Originally no supporter of excess jewelry, she now sports two meaningful items, whose origins she will not reveal to the casual companion. A silver armband graces her right bicep, etched with markings from a holt other than her own, along with small pictographs of hunting otters, and fish, which are emphasized by an antiqued finish. If another beast were to look closely, they’d notice a fine gold chain around her neck, though the lowest end of it is hidden underneath her tunic. What they would not see would be a small fishbone locket, carefully crafted and held by the chain. Hidden deep within her pack, and never revealed to others, is a small patchwork otter doll. It bears a striking resemblance to an otter dibbun she is very fond of, and she keeps it with her while traveling. When the weather gets bad, the tunic is supplemented by a hooded gray-green cloak, which is fastened at the throat with a simple hook-and-latch clasp. This cloak is also used for warmth while traveling in cold weather, and for camouflage during stealth missions or times when she needs to hide.
She is never without a weapon, and her weapon of choice is the javelin. Whether it be close-range or long-range battle, she can hold her own with the sturdy shaft by her side. Crafted of oak, she keeps the double-tipped weapon in good shape, sanding and varnishing it when time allows. She carries a double-edged dagger sheathed on her belt, used for many purposes, as well as a yew bow and a quiver of ash arrows fletched with gray feathers slung across her back. Though she may be short, she doesn't lack strength. Many opponents think that her shorter stature makes her an easier target, but she is strong, as well as being relatively quick and agile.

Personality: For those who don't know her, or those that Thorn doesn't know, her personality seems to fit her name quite well, as she intended. She trusts next to no one, and this can easily be seen by the way she may react to creatures she meets while under stress. She can be gruff, insulting, demanding, pessimistic, bossy, and more. If pushed she will push back without regard for whom it is she is dealing with. She has moderate self-control, but is still quick to anger, especially when pushed too far, or when she feels threatened or betrayed. Though she will respect those with authority, she follows her own set of rules at times, and has a knack for occasionally giving out orders and expecting them to be followed, whether the situation warrants it or not. She puts up an invisible barrier between herself and other creatures, one which is very difficult to overcome. It takes a persistent beast, who remains consistent in behavior and personality, to break this barrier. Due to her untrusting nature, she puts up a bold front, no matter what the situation.
Thorn will not admit any weakness to a creature she does not know or trust, even if she is obviously wounded, or close to death. Stubborn to a fault, she refuses to admit she’s wrong unless the one she is arguing with proves themselves right without a doubt. She can occasionally get locked into a sort of tunnel-vision, focusing so intently on one beast that she forgets all other duties or even her own safety. A loner by choice, she prefers her own company, or at the most, the company of one or two other beasts. She grows uncomfortable when in a situation with several beasts she is not well acquainted with, and remains tense and unsocial throughout the duration of their stay. When placed in that type of situation, she will put herself in the most advantageous position possible, where she can fight her way to freedom if necessary. Once she has gotten to know a creature, it may appear that she trusts them. She can be very polite, friendly, and cordial, but she always has her eye out for trouble or betrayal. For the rare few she does completely trust, there is a chance that they could not have a more loyal friend. She would lie down her life without hesitation for any the title of friend has been given. They are more valuable to her than anything she could possibly want or need. The only exceptions to these rules are dibbuns. Due to their innocent nature, Thorn trusts dibbuns immediately, and will spend hours playing or caring for them.
Despite having a few friends, and several acquaintances, it is very difficult to keep Thorn in a single place longer than a week. Afflicted by a driving sense of wanderlust, she travels wherever the road takes her, though she will never venture too far to the south. Traveling companions are few and far between, as many beasts may feel intimidated by her cool and untrusting manner. She prefers it this way, trusting only in herself to survive vermin, weather, traveling rations, and time itself. There is no desire within her to be tied down to a single place yet, though perhaps the time may come when the desperate need to continue moving on will cease, and she will search out a new place to call home.

History: Born in a small holt located between Redwall and Southsward, Thorn had a happy childhood. Her holt, Holt Swiftcurrent, was a happy and sheltered place, and on the rare occasions when vermin did attack, they were easily repelled by the older members. Being young and naïve, she trusted everybeast she knew. She was known throughout the holt as a quiet, caring, trusting, and trustworthy young otter, who seemed to have a wonderful future in store for her. As she and her friends grew older, they were schooled in reading, history, and the basics of mathematics. Needless to say, all were instructed in the basics of at least one weapon, and expected to help defend the holt once the weapon was properly mastered. When she was about eight seasons old, her best friend proposed to her, and she accepted his proposal. Their marriage was set for the next summer. Over the passing months Thorn noticed some slight changes in her fiancé, but didn’t heed them, thinking that he was just growing nervous about the coming wedding, or that the increasing vermin raids were starting to worry him. The young female busied herself with the preparations for the wedding, worrying slightly about the increasing regularity of the vermin sightings, but trusting in her friends and family to help keep the holt safe and secure.
The evening before the wedding came, and a grand feast was held, with a bonfire, musicians, and dancing throughout the clear night. In the midst of this celebration the holt was attacked by a large band of vermin, who slaughtered or enslaved every otter they could find, including Thorn and her soon-to-be mate. There were very few otters left after the brief battle that were deemed worthy enough or strong enough to be slaves, and any that were still alive but weren’t accepted were simply killed. Chained and driven at a fast-paced march for several miles a day, it wasn’t long before the remaining otters began to die as well. Some died of disease, some died of starvation, and others died from the abuse laid on them by the unrelenting vermin. Somehow, through sheer will, determination, and love, Thorn and her fiancé survived to be the last two otters of the holt left alive. It wasn’t until further into their travels that Thorn began to suspect something of her fiancé. She feared the worst had happened - that he had, for some reason, joined forces with the vermin. These fears were soon confirmed when one night, after she was supposedly asleep, he was unchained and allowed to roam free around the camp, discussing future plans with the vermin that had held them captive for so long. Though crushed by his betrayal, and the loss of all other family or kin, Thorn hid her emotions for several days, until she could no longer wait for answers. She confronted him one night, and the result was an argument that managed to wake the whole camp, and a severe beating. After that, her fiancé was allowed to walk without chains, an obvious part of the vermin band, while she remained a slave, forced to do whatever they wished.
Though her spirits were low, she managed to free herself of her chains one night, and started to slip off into the dark. Her plans of escape were quickly halted when her former friend and lover discovered that she was gone, and after a brief exchange of words, they found themselves locked in battle. She won, but the price of winning was dear...she was forced to kill him. Evading the rest of the vermin, she found a safe place to hide and recover, for recover she did. Physically, she became stronger than she had ever been in her life, but this was no great advantage, for she had become an emotional disaster. The loss of her friends and family and the betrayal of the one whom she had held closest to her heart had left Thorn shattered. She no longer trusted anybeast, no matter how sincere they seemed to be. She became a hollow shell of her former self, quick to anger and slow to forgive. The outward signs of her personality reflected her own inner battle. Her self-confidence and trust in herself had been diminished. How could she know that she wouldn’t hurt another she loved the same way she had her fiancé? How could she be certain he wouldn’t hurt her? After fully recovering from her physical wounds, she began tracking the vermin band that had caused her so much pain, unable to take her grief and anger out on any other beast. Obtaining weapons and supplies from the few goodbeasts she met during her travels, she lived mostly off the land, teaching herself how to fight, how to move without sound, and how to survive. It was at this point that she changed her name to Thorn Silentpaw, for she had borne another name during her childhood, a name which she will no longer reveal to another, even the closest of her friends.
Pursuing her former tormenters, she took her revenge slowly, striking when least expected, and killing them a few at a time. After killing the last of the vermin that had taken her home and family from her, she set to traveling. Filled with grief at the loss of her family, and doubt as to the justice of her actions, she wandered north, eventually coming to Redwall Abbey. She sought solace there for a short time, but then continued on, something inside of her refusing to allow her to settle in one place again. While traveling she would help those in need, defending them and herself against vermin of all shapes and sizes. Despite her distrust, there was something within her that still desired the company of others, the happiness that seemed to be just out of reach. Yet she could not stay, her discomfort rising with each day that passed. Once the danger had passed she would bid them farewell, taking to the road again, something inside her fueling the need to constantly be on the move. It was in this manner that she came across the crew of the ship, Swiftrage. After receiving their aid during an attack by a band of vermin, she traveled with them to Rowanwood clearing, to help the squirrels that lived there rid themselves of a vermin horde. Having nowhere else to go, she traveled with the crew back to the place known as Citadel OceanVine.
During her time at the Citadel, as it was fondly known, she managed to make two fast friends, much to her surprise. When it was closed down, she bid them a fond farewell, knowing that someday they would meet again during their travels. She began to re-trace her steps, heading back in the general direction of Redwall Abbey, in the hope that perhaps the incessant drive to wander and endless self-doubt would someday be eased. Her travels have carried her far and wide, taking her south of the Abbey to Fort Emerald Bay, home to two other friends, Brooke Briar, and Moontouch Icebrink. The visit was short, since the location brought back old memories that she was not willing to view. Striking out again, she headed north, this time bypassing the abbey and making her way to Fort Ruddler. A short-lived, but happy reunion with Iruin Figleaf accompanied her stay, but once again she felt the urge to move on. Her paws have brought her back to FEB for another visit, the length of this stay undetermined. Yet with no set time frame, and no set destination, it is unpredictable where she will go next. She travels with the birds and the winds, letting the seasons and her footpaws take her where they may, and trusting her own skills to keep her safe.



TIMELINE

Bargain Hunters
Homing in on Friends

[Keleanth Windspiral]

Name: Kenyon Kalchusk

Species: Mouse

Character Group: Civilian/Thief

Age: 19 years

Appearance: Slightly smaller than the average male of his species, Kenyon is nonetheless stronger than he looks. His build is slight, but wirey. His white fur is accented by the pinkish-red eyes that mark him as an albino, much to his chagrin. To compensate for these striking characteristics he often smudges his fur with dirt, soot, charcoal...anything he can get his paws on that'll darken it. A greyish-brown tunic and matching breeches are his favored "working" clothes, being rather indescribable and indistinct. A belt holds a long dagger, though the mouse is hardly versed in the ways of fighting. When he's in this outfit, a matching beret nearly always tops his head, oftentimes set at an angle so it'll stay in place. Occasionally, when gathering information, or performing a different sort of job, he'll don another outfit, one more suiting to his task. The little thief thinks himself a pretty decent master of disguise, and has several personas that he's created for use.

History/past: Coming soon...

Personality: Kenyon might be described as a bit of a rogue. Outgoing and friendly, he doesn't mind striking up a conversation, though he's quite often careful of whom he might be speaking to. A smile frequently can be found on his face, no matter what the situation. He's something of an optimist, much to the chagrin of certain beasts. Though he carries a long dagger, the mouse isn't much of a fighter, preferring to either talk his way out of the situation, or simply run. Kenyon thinks of himself as being "light of paw". He's a pickpocket on most days, though occasionally he'll actually break into a house or somewhere in the marketplace. Rarely does he keep what he takes. Instead he'll sell it, then keep the money. He's not a rich beast, and he doesn't care to be. Thievery is more of a hobby, since he didn't really care to take up any other profession. He's good at it, and it amuses him. There is no malice in his actions...he just enjoys what he does, and takes what he needs to live on, instead of doing things the normal, "honorable" way.

Aliases: Jeldar: merchant, Timath: peasant, Chiam: musician/bard/minstrel


TIMELINE

Scamp
Wandering