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Description

Name: Tasallan of Clan Telanadas
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 125
Height: 5'10"
Race: Wood Elf
Class: Druid, Circle of the Land
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Stats: (rolled and confirmed in chat)

STR: 11

DEX: 18 + 2 Racial Bonus = 20

CON: 14

INT: 13

WIS: 17 + 1 Racial Bonus = 18

CHA: 13

Personality:

● Friendly | Open | Sincere | Curious | Hard Working | Calculating | Introspective | Melancholic | Self-Sacrificing | Impulsive

● Tasallan has been blessed with many gifts in his life. He has a peaceful home, a clan that loves and has always supported him, and a natural talent for magic that made him both a praised and useful child. His deep gratitude for these many blessings has made given him a diplomatic and outwardly friendly disposition, earnestly open and ready to help anyone willing to extend their hand towards him. He believes that feelings are best shared, and that honesty and patience are not only essential for building lasting relationships, but are balms for the soul as well. Even when rocked by turbulent emotions, sadness and frustration and anger must be acknowledged rather than pushed away. It is his fondest desire to exist wholly, truthfully, and at peace with himself and his world.

Because he believes so strongly in being honest with himself, Tasallan also knows when to recognize when the burden of community and responsibility has become too much. There are times where the few but poignant tragedies of his life weigh heavily on him, or simply when being around people becomes too much, and instead of relying on the comfort or a friend, he retreats. He finds some respite in being alone, in pushing the world away and just allowing himself to be and not think, or worry about what others think. There's a gleeful savagery in it, in just letting himself be a part of the wood, not worrying or caring about anything but the trees and the animals. In the end, though, he always comes back — there is too much to miss to stay away for too long.

Background:

● Tasallan was not fortunate enough to know his "real" parents. Both were hunters of Clan Telanadas, a reclusive Clan nestled at the far reaches of the Wolfwood, and both were unfortunately lost to the same accident soon after he was born. Their loss is not a pain he carries with him — they were good elves, and the death of any young elf is a tragedy for such a long-lived people, but he never knew them. When they died, he was taken in by the Clan's leader, the person Tasallan more than happily calls his real father.

Clan leader Canden was one of the youngest leaders Clan Telanadas had ever had. He was pleasant enough, if somewhat reclusive, but he worked fiercely hard to make sure that his Clan always had everything it needed to thrive. Despite his poor social abilities, he was an experienced hunter and mage even before he became Clan leader, which earned him the respect and affection of his Clan. Taking in Tasallan went against every instinct he had, because he was the furthest thing from parental, but Tasallan will be forever grateful that he did.

Tasallan, like all elven children, grew quickly and precociously. He was just as at home hunting in the forest as he was singing songs around the dinner fire at night, all before he could even spell his own name. There weren't many young elves his age, owing to the Clan's small numbers, but he got along well with both his age mates and the older elves alike. When he showed a talent for spellcasting as well as hunting, his father made the decision that he would raise Tasallan not only as his own child, but as his eventual successor as well. For the young Tasallan, nothing could have been a greater honor than being recognized by his strong and reserved father in such a way.

He worked hard, practicing his magic by performing small cantrips for his friends and throwing small, impotent blasts at squirrels to practice his aim and control. Not one to do things by halves, he would practice into the night, long after his lessons with his father ended, only diving for his bed when he heard his father's footsteps coming towards his room. Canden was a surprisingly patient teacher, especially for how flustered, it seemed to Tasallan, he became whenever he helped anyone else in the Clan with their problems. Slowly, with the sort of insight only a child can accomplish, Tasallan came to the understand that, though unspoken, his father must have suffered a terrible sadness in his past, and though it made him awkward around the others, it made him protective and doting on his adopted son. At the moment of that realization, Tasallan made a vow to his young self that he would always protect his father in turn, because no one else understood him like he did.

And so life passed, in the uneventful way of a life that's never truly predictable. Aside from his apprentice training, Tasallan also grew into a fine young Sapling, a specialized group of young mages within the Clan destined for the Circle. While the hunters had no or little magic to speak of and used their talents for hunting and crafting, the Druids of the Circle stood at the forefront of protecting the Clan from all threats, and deepening their connection with their forest home. Canden was not only the Clan's Leader, but its foremost Druid as well. To Tasallan, they always seemed so mysterious and powerful, just as much a part of his Clan family as the hunters and craftsmen, but somehow also apart from it. Unlike the other Saplings, however, who dedicated themselves to the Circle first and foremost, Tasallan's training was split between magic practice, apprenticeship practice, hunting practice, history practice . . . the practices were endless.

When Tasallan was nearing his nineties, several hunters out on routine tracks were killed, only found in the forest by another wave of hunters who set out looking for them a week later. The tragedy rocked the Clan to its core. It wasn't unheard of for hunters to fall to the perils of the forest, where monsters and the unknown lurked at the edges of their Clan territory. But for many hunters to all fall at once to a single beast was exceedingly rare. In fact, the last time multiple hunters had died was when Tasallan's parents had died. Several weeks of tense scouting missions ensued, until the hunters and Canden finally came to a conclusion — a massive direwolf was stalking the woods, so huge and so cunning that they believed it must be from the depths of the Labyrinth, or perhaps it was a beast possessed by some spirit or god of the forest. Given the casualties caused by the beast, Canden announced that he would go and rid them of this threat himself, and that no hunters or Druids were to follow him. It was all he could do to keep his Clan safe.

Canden never returned, and the beast never killed again.

The Clan was mired in grief at the loss of their leader, and worse, they had no clear replacement. Tasallan, who had trained his entire life for the position, had not expected to take over for many, many years, and had not even passed through his adulthood ceremony. No one wished to put the burden of leading an entire Clan on the shoulders of such a young elf, and so, in a unanimous decision, the next most senior Druid took up the mantle.

Tasallan found it . . . difficult to be in the Clan after that. He had lost parents once, and had not known them enough to mourn them, but this . . . This was more than his heart could take. While he still loved his family with all of his heart, he made a painful choice, to leave until his heart was healed enough to return. It didn't matter to him whether they would welcome him back as a future Clan leader or not, if and when he did return — all he knew was that he had lost something important, and the only home he had ever known was too much a reminder of that loss. So with his Clan's tearful well-wishes, he left, and has been on his own, traveling, ever since.

The night of The Surge, Tasallan could feel the whole forest quake around him. He awoke on a tree branch high above the forest floor, and stared, wide-eyed, into the dark as the world went quiet around him. In the way that animals go still and silent before an earthquake, and then all at once go rushing and crying for safety, so too did the forest go silent and then come all alive that night. There was no physical tremor, no explosion or noise, but Tasallan felt it rock his very core all the same. He could feel, even in that moment, that the world was changed. In his time since leaving the Clan, he had largely stayed to the Wolfwood, not quite ready or willing to venture into the vastly more populated Lumivaara. After the Surge, however, he felt a sudden need to see more of the world, to see what the Surge meant, not just for him, but for the wider world.

Trivia: (optional; other fun facts about your character)
Character sheet: Dicecloud link here .
Timezone: EST / GMT -5

Description

Name: Tasallan of Clan Telanadas
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 125
Height: 5'10"
Race: Wood Elf
Class: Druid, Circle of the Land
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Stats: (rolled and confirmed in chat)

STR: 11

DEX: 18 + 2 Racial Bonus = 20

CON: 14

INT: 13

WIS: 17 + 1 Racial Bonus = 18

CHA: 13

Personality:

● Friendly | Open | Sincere | Curious | Hard Working | Calculating | Introspective | Melancholic | Self-Sacrificing | Impulsive

● Tasallan has been blessed with many gifts in his life. He has a peaceful home, a clan that loves and has always supported him, and a natural talent for magic that made him both a praised and useful child. His deep gratitude for these many blessings has made given him a diplomatic and outwardly friendly disposition, earnestly open and ready to help anyone willing to extend their hand towards him. He believes that feelings are best shared, and that honesty and patience are not only essential for building lasting relationships, but are balms for the soul as well. Even when rocked by turbulent emotions, sadness and frustration and anger must be acknowledged rather than pushed away. It is his fondest desire to exist wholly, truthfully, and at peace with himself and his world.

Because he believes so strongly in being honest with himself, Tasallan also knows when to recognize when the burden of community and responsibility has become too much. There are times where the few but poignant tragedies of his life weigh heavily on him, or simply when being around people becomes too much, and instead of relying on the comfort or a friend, he retreats. He finds some respite in being alone, in pushing the world away and just allowing himself to be and not think, or worry about what others think. There's a gleeful savagery in it, in just letting himself be a part of the wood, not worrying or caring about anything but the trees and the animals. In the end, though, he always comes back — there is too much to miss to stay away for too long.

Background:

● Tasallan was not fortunate enough to know his "real" parents. Both were hunters of Clan Telanadas, a reclusive Clan nestled at the far reaches of the Wolfwood, and both were unfortunately lost to the same accident soon after he was born. Their loss is not a pain he carries with him — they were good elves, and the death of any young elf is a tragedy for such a long-lived people, but he never knew them. When they died, he was taken in by the Clan's leader, the person Tasallan more than happily calls his real father.

Clan leader Canden was one of the youngest leaders Clan Telanadas had ever had. He was pleasant enough, if somewhat reclusive, but he worked fiercely hard to make sure that his Clan always had everything it needed to thrive. Despite his poor social abilities, he was an experienced hunter and mage even before he became Clan leader, which earned him the respect and affection of his Clan. Taking in Tasallan went against every instinct he had, because he was the furthest thing from parental, but Tasallan will be forever grateful that he did.

Tasallan, like all elven children, grew quickly and precociously. He was just as at home hunting in the forest as he was singing songs around the dinner fire at night, all before he could even spell his own name. There weren't many young elves his age, owing to the Clan's small numbers, but he got along well with both his age mates and the older elves alike. When he showed a talent for spellcasting as well as hunting, his father made the decision that he would raise Tasallan not only as his own child, but as his eventual successor as well. For the young Tasallan, nothing could have been a greater honor than being recognized by his strong and reserved father in such a way.

He worked hard, practicing his magic by performing small cantrips for his friends and throwing small, impotent blasts at squirrels to practice his aim and control. Not one to do things by halves, he would practice into the night, long after his lessons with his father ended, only diving for his bed when he heard his father's footsteps coming towards his room. Canden was a surprisingly patient teacher, especially for how flustered, it seemed to Tasallan, he became whenever he helped anyone else in the Clan with their problems. Slowly, with the sort of insight only a child can accomplish, Tasallan came to the understand that, though unspoken, his father must have suffered a terrible sadness in his past, and though it made him awkward around the others, it made him protective and doting on his adopted son. At the moment of that realization, Tasallan made a vow to his young self that he would always protect his father in turn, because no one else understood him like he did.

And so life passed, in the uneventful way of a life that's never truly predictable. Aside from his apprentice training, Tasallan also grew into a fine young Sapling, a specialized group of young mages within the Clan destined for the Circle. While the hunters had no or little magic to speak of and used their talents for hunting and crafting, the Druids of the Circle stood at the forefront of protecting the Clan from all threats, and deepening their connection with their forest home. Canden was not only the Clan's Leader, but its foremost Druid as well. To Tasallan, they always seemed so mysterious and powerful, just as much a part of his Clan family as the hunters and craftsmen, but somehow also apart from it. Unlike the other Saplings, however, who dedicated themselves to the Circle first and foremost, Tasallan's training was split between magic practice, apprenticeship practice, hunting practice, history practice . . . the practices were endless.

When Tasallan was nearing his nineties, several hunters out on routine tracks were killed, only found in the forest by another wave of hunters who set out looking for them a week later. The tragedy rocked the Clan to its core. It wasn't unheard of for hunters to fall to the perils of the forest, where monsters and the unknown lurked at the edges of their Clan territory. But for many hunters to all fall at once to a single beast was exceedingly rare. In fact, the last time multiple hunters had died was when Tasallan's parents had died. Several weeks of tense scouting missions ensued, until the hunters and Canden finally came to a conclusion — a massive direwolf was stalking the woods, so huge and so cunning that they believed it must be from the depths of the Labyrinth, or perhaps it was a beast possessed by some spirit or god of the forest. Given the casualties caused by the beast, Canden announced that he would go and rid them of this threat himself, and that no hunters or Druids were to follow him. It was all he could do to keep his Clan safe.

Canden never returned, and the beast never killed again.

The Clan was mired in grief at the loss of their leader, and worse, they had no clear replacement. Tasallan, who had trained his entire life for the position, had not expected to take over for many, many years, and had not even passed through his adulthood ceremony. No one wished to put the burden of leading an entire Clan on the shoulders of such a young elf, and so, in a unanimous decision, the next most senior Druid took up the mantle.

Tasallan found it . . . difficult to be in the Clan after that. He had lost parents once, and had not known them enough to mourn them, but this . . . This was more than his heart could take. While he still loved his family with all of his heart, he made a painful choice, to leave until his heart was healed enough to return. It didn't matter to him whether they would welcome him back as a future Clan leader or not, if and when he did return — all he knew was that he had lost something important, and the only home he had ever known was too much a reminder of that loss. So with his Clan's tearful well-wishes, he left, and has been on his own, traveling, ever since.

The night of The Surge, Tasallan could feel the whole forest quake around him. He awoke on a tree branch high above the forest floor, and stared, wide-eyed, into the dark as the world went quiet around him. In the way that animals go still and silent before an earthquake, and then all at once go rushing and crying for safety, so too did the forest go silent and then come all alive that night. There was no physical tremor, no explosion or noise, but Tasallan felt it rock his very core all the same. He could feel, even in that moment, that the world was changed. In his time since leaving the Clan, he had largely stayed to the Wolfwood, not quite ready or willing to venture into the vastly more populated Lumivaara. After the Surge, however, he felt a sudden need to see more of the world, to see what the Surge meant, not just for him, but for the wider world.

Trivia: (optional; other fun facts about your character)
Character sheet: Dicecloud link here .
Timezone: EST / GMT -5