Lyra
| Full Name: | Lyra Silverfoot |
|---|---|
| Race: | Half-Elf |
| Pronouns: | she/her |
| Age: | 28 |
| Height: | 5'0 |
| Hair: | blonde |
| Eyes: | gray |
| Nationality: | Concordian |
| Affiliations: | Band of the Sea Dragon |
| Languages Spoken: |
|
Lyra Silverfoot is a cleric and member of the Band of the Sea Dragon.
Personality
From a young age, Lyra has had very little interest in following rules. Forever a wanderer, she's always had a habit of poking around places where she isn't meant to be--and her habit of leaping without looking has led her into more than her fair share of scrapes. Because she had a childhood that largely lacked in consistency, it took her a long time to develop any meaningful relationships, and she often makes snap judgments about the people she meets. It's become something of a refrain of hers to announce, "I don't think I like you much" when happening upon strangers, only to quickly change her mind again. When she does like someone, she likes them intensely, and her affection is likely to only increase.
However, she also tends to be very flighty, alternating with seeming randomness between thoughtful supportiveness and rash selfishness. In a similar vein, her relationship with the truth seems to be constantly shifting. Whether she'll speak her mind bluntly, or bend the truth to fit her circumstances from moment to moment is as much a mystery to her as it is to anyone else. More than once, though, she's managed to convince herself of something that doesn't turn out to be quite as true as she might have believed it to be at the time. When she inevitably does something foolish, she does learn from her mistakes--but not always enough to avoid repeating them. Perhaps this is because she doesn't typically spend much time thinking about them once they've happened, except to consider them a really good story to tell.
Appearance
For the most part, Lyra's looks very much favor the Elven half of her ancestry. Standing at just barely five feet tall, Lyra's smallness has always been an asset to her wanderings. She has pale blonde hair, which she wears in a messy pixie cut, and gray eyes. Her features are fine, and almost impish, and her frequent smiles reveal a deep dimple on her right cheek. Her pointed ears are loaded with silver earrings, and she has recently taken to wearing her holy symbol around her neck.
History
Childhood
Lyra Silverfoot grew up in Feolinn, parented by a single mother: an Elven woman named Sariel. She never told Lyra who her father was, claiming he wasn’t worth knowing, nor did she speak of any other family, even when Lyra asked about them. Because she had no one to help her, she spent most of her time working at one of the wineries in town. This meant that Lyra was basically raised by an assortment of neighbors, many of whom seemed to disapprove of her mother. She learned quickly which of her various watchers would actually keep a close eye on her, and which were only in it for the meager fee her mother would pay when she returned from work. So, on days she could get away with it, she’d throw together some prank to keep her guardian for the day distracted, then go sneaking off into town to explore what excitements Feolinn had to offer. Along the way, she developed a habit of snagging things from passers-by.
At first, she thought maybe selling these things would mean things might get better at home. But things didn't change much, and then Sariel went and got herself a wealthy human boyfriend, who Lyra couldn't stand. So she started keeping her loot to herself, and spent more time out of the house than in it.
The First Party
As she grew, her habit for wandering started expanding beyond the realms of what she knew, and she started exploring the jungle surrounding the city, as well as the Plumgroves. These explorations were what allowed her to meet her first ever group of friends, when she found herself accidentally gatecrashing a midnight party out in the groves.
These were Annabelle, a gnome bard with absolutely no common sense, but who had the voice of an angel and was a hell of a good time; Balfaren, an overly serious but goodhearted elf who wanted to be a paladin to Erathis; and Delmon, a human fighter with a tendency to flirt with anyone that looked at him twice. Drunkenly, they decided that they would be the best of friends. That they would travel together, adventuring and kicking all manner of ass.
They decided that the next night would be the perfect opportunity for this. They’d come back, after the party was done and everyone was gone, and explore the caverns beneath the Plumgroves. Lyra showed up the next day not really expecting to see them; but see them she did. And even though they nearly got themselves killed stumbling upon the random monsters and traps in the caverns, they all thought it was a hell of a story.
They spent quite some time roving around, picking up whatever work they could find. It usually wasn’t anything crazy, but Lyra loved the freedom of it, especially when the party started exploring the other islands along the Menagerie Coast. The skillsets she’d picked up in Feolinn, it turned out, were equally useful in the rest of the port cities, and before long, she found that she’d learned all sorts of shortcuts and interesting little hideaway places.
As she got to know the rest of the party, Lyra, whose mother had never bothered much with organized religion, had found herself fascinated by the relationship Balfaren was developing with Erathis. She’d ask him about it some nights when they were on watch together--about what had drawn him to Erathis, what he liked about her, what it was like to have powers from a god. Erathis herself kind of stressed Lyra out, conceptually, but when Balfaren casually mentioned Erathis’s chaotic wife on one of these evenings, she was intrigued. Balfaren told her what he knew, and she found that it wasn’t enough. Lyra, who’d never been one for studying before, suddenly found herself hunting for information about Sehanine wherever she could get it.
She never really did much by way of praying or meditating, except by sort of...vaguely thinking things in Sehanine’s general direction, almost like she would talk to a friend. And it must have worked, somehow. As she started developing powers, Lyra still didn’t develop what could be considered a particularly typical relationship with her deity, but she certainly did develop a fondness for her. Sehanine’s commandments didn’t feel particularly difficult to follow--in fact, Lyra was drawn to exactly the sorts of things Sehanine seemed to expect from her followers, for the most part. Balfaren tried to teach her to meditate, but she never really managed to make a habit of it.
Nothing happened to get her to leave them, really. She just tired of gallivanting around with the group, and set off on her own. She spent some more time vaguely reading up on religion and history and the like, and continued her habit of wandering about, except that now, the whole coast was available to her. She was just starting to tire of her solitude when she happened across the group now known as the Band of the Sea Dragon.
Trivia
Lyra's hit points are roughly on par with an anemic goblin.
