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Magdalyn
Magdalyn Caern, Enemy of the Dead
| Name | Magdalyn |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Occupation | Woman-for-Hire |
| Age | Middle Aged |
| Race | Man |
|---|---|
| Residence | The open road. |
| Kinship | None |
| Outward Appearance | Magdalyn is neither tall nor short, neither large nor slight. Her hair is an inelegant mop of the darkest brown, course and wiry at the ends, and her eyes are a cold blue. Her body is a stalwart bastion of shoddy armor, often mismatched in all but proper size and functionality, giving her a vagrant appearance to go hand in hand with her attitude. Her cloak is perpetually the same shabby rust-red garment, however. If one comes too close, they may smell the lingering odor of stale alcohol clinging to the fabric. Her skin is littered with a lengthy timeline of scars, most prominently the old, unclean line across her cheek and the raw calluses on her knuckles that never quite have a chance to heal correctly before they are battered again. Her constant company out of doors is a chestnut steed who is visibly much better cared for than herself. |
|---|
Background
(In progress as of 1/6.)
Her business remains her own as she shares her past with very few. Rumors have it she was born in a barrow. That isn't true. But rumors are always born in some puddle of truth.
She will take to most struggles and also abandon them at whim, claiming to care only for the thrill and potential payment. However, the fire in her heart burns most fiercely to necromancy, and she can often be found knee deep in the hewn flesh of the undead, especially if there are victims involved.
Quick to Anger, Slow to Trust.
Easy to Hit, but Hard to Break.
| Friends | None, yet. |
|---|---|
| Relatives | None. |
| Rivals/Enemies | None, yet |
| Loves | A good ale, but passable wine or cider will do; finishing a fight (whether or not she started it is irrelevant), her horse, Huck, meat stews, Dwarven culture, adventure, danger (putting her life in it), dogs. |
|---|---|
| Hates | The Enemy. Particularly and especially the Dead. She's not too fond of Trolls either. People behaving like prats. High and mighty types. Staying in one place for too long. Sweet desserts. On some level, her own self. |
| Motivation | To destroy all that are walking when they should be sleeping. |
| Quotes | "Beware when Maggie Caern comes walking, Enemy of the Dead; if it don't have a pulse or breath, Maggie Caern will have its head." |
