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Astrid Greenbough; Woman Out of Time
Topic Started: Aug 8 2017, 08:53 AM (27 Views)
Telmaril
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The End of Ascalon
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Name: Astrid Greenbough
Gender: Female
Race: Redguard/Breton mix
Age: 46

Appearance:
Astrid Greenbough is not a beautiful woman. She’s short and stout and solid, built to take a licking and keep on ticking. Her skin is dark, turned to leather by four decades of exposure to the elements, and so is her rather ragged mop of hair. Her eyes are somewhere between blue and green, almost the color of deep water moving fast, and seem perpetually tired. They sit in a face that’s broad and flat and unashamedly shows its age. A lifetime on the move has stripped every ounce of fat from her sturdy frame. Now she’s all lean muscle and harsh angles only slightly softened by a barrel chest, bowed legs and a stubbornly-upright posture.

Clothing-wise Astrid favors durability and comfort over aesthetic. For her that means hard-wearing buckskin tunics and leggings, typically paired with heavy leather boots. In colder climes she swaps buckskin for wolf- or bearskin. A belt, bulging belt-pouches, and a sheathed hunting knife complete her ensemble.

Personality:
Astrid Greenbough does not know how to people.

That’s it. That’s her whole personality.

...alright, that’s something of an exaggeration, but it’s not terribly far from reality. The uncomfortable truth is that Astrid has absolutely no idea how to interact with people on their level. The very concept of cultural mores and acceptable behaviors is alien to her. They fly right over her head without ever registering, leaving her bewildered and more than a bit annoyed when people explode at her. A lifetime of apparently-unwarranted hostility has turned her prickly and taciturn, quick to take the offensive if she feels as if she’s in danger. Alas, Astrid’s definition of ‘danger’ is rather broader than most. People are inherently dangerous, as far as she’s concerned, and she goes out of her way to avoid them unless forced into close contact. For her the wilds make vastly more sense than civilization ever could. At least out in the boonies she knows what wants to kill her and why.

On the rare occasion Astrid is forced into a conversation she comes across as brusque, blunt and almost irritatingly fearless. She’s possessed of the effortless, unconscious confidence that can only come from a lifetime of beating the odds. She’s got a temper, one that lashes out at those who insert their noses where they aren’t wanted, and has precious little in the way of patience. She doesn’t hold grudges, thankfully, nor does she expect to get along with everyone. After all, she’s an irritable and introverted woman terrible at communicating her feelings and needs. That’s not the sort of personality that endears her to many. Astrid’s aware of this and, though she’s long since given up trying to change it, she’s not the least bit insulted when people choose to take their efforts at friendship elsewhere. Best that they know what they’re dealing with upfront. That way no one wastes time on a woman who doesn’t want or need to be ‘saved’.

Beneath the pride and the prickliness Astrid is a painfully lonely woman. She’s very aware of her shortcomings, of her ‘otherness’, and knows from long experience she’ll always be a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. She can’t stand eye contact, abhors being touched, flinches whenever anyone laughs. The noise and close contact of normal ‘civilized’ life overwhelms her. Her relationships with other humanoids are tenuous at best, forever tainted by her sneaking suspicion she’ll do the wrong thing and wind up abandoned. While she desperately wants friends, family, all the things other people take for granted, she’s resigned to her role as ‘useful outcast’. Living on the fringes is the most she feels she can aspire to, and so it is, just barely, enough.

History
Astrid was born in the Tamrielic province of Skyrim, first and only child of wildly mismatched parents. Her mother was Forsworn, one of Skyrim’s oft-reviled native Bretons, while her father was a Redguard warrior fresh out of the Alik’r Desert. The two had a brief fling before parting ways, both entirely unaware of the lasting repercussions their actions had. Nine months later Astrid was born to a somewhat unprepared but eager mother. Raised amongst the Forsworn, she learned early how to survive far from the comforts of civilization. This rather spartan upbringing molded her into a capable and confident young woman with all the skills she needed to survive.

At the tender age of sixteen summers Astrid packed her bags and left the redoubt she’d called home her entire life. The wilds were calling to her, as they did to many Forsworn, and she could not ignore its demands. While life on the road offered different challenges than living amongst Forsworn did, she reveled in them. In the wilds no one would criticize her, demand she change her behavior, or worse. Among the trees and the stones and beneath a star-strewn sky Astrid Greenbough was finally free to simply be.

Years passed. Bit by bit Astrid grew into herself, maturing into a woman her parents could be proud of. Over time she steadily migrated east from the Reach, finally arriving on the grassy plains of Whiterun Hold. There she stayed for some time, content to live off the fat of the land. It was outside Whiterun city proper that Astrid met a man who would help redefine her: one Willem Greysky. Willem was a Nord hunter based out of Whiterun city, a man as comfortable in the wilds as Astrid herself was. Initially the two developed something of a friendly rivalry. Only once it became obvious they were equally skilled did their feelings for one another take a less competitive turn.

Astrid and Willem were married in Whiterun’s temple a scant few months after their first meeting. For a time the two were content to live a quiet, unremarkable life in that peaceful hold, hunting and gathering as they always had. Then their conversations turned towards the future, to children and family and setting down roots, and their somewhat hasty marriage began to fall apart. Not even a year after their wedding Willem came home to an empty house and a familiar Amulet of Mara left atop a note addressed to him. He never saw his wife again.

As easy as life in Whiterun Hold was, the place held naught but uncomfortable memories. The Reach was little better. With that in mind Astrid headed into unfamiliar territory: the Rift. She traveled south and east, finally setting up camp in the long-abandoned ruin of Avanchnzel. The Dwemer wreck looked out over a mountain stream and lush graze, precisely the sort of terrain that attracted all manner of game. In short order Astrid made herself comfortable and settled in for what promised to be a pleasantly mild winter.

Sometime during that winter Astrid made a discovery that had far-reaching consequences. Avanchnzel was more than a simple place to hide from the weather: it was attached to an ancient Dwemer workshop that had lain untouched since its masters’ disappearance. Inside was a treasure trove of Dwemer technology. By rights Astrid ought to have tipped off Skyrim’s academics, made sure the discovery benefitted the province at large, but curiosity overrode her vaunted common sense. As the snows of winter grew deeper she started tinkering, experimenting, seeing just what the remnants of a civilization now long gone could do.

The answer was simultaneously more simple and more complex than she could’ve anticipated. Dwemer technology offered her an outlet for her grief and her growing loneliness. More than that, it offered her a chance to fashion a friend.

Come the first days of summer that was precisely what she did.

The very first Athid was built in the workshop in Avanchnzel, powered by a soul crystal and fashioned after the luna moths that called the surface home. Astrid named her newfound companion Mara, after the Tamrielic goddess of love and beauty, and found in her a friend she could trust without hesitation. Other Athid followed hot on Mara’s proverbial heels. Soon Avanchnzel fairly buzzed with a new generation of mechanical servitors, each and every one a work of art in miniature.

Astrid might well have stayed in her makeshift home for the rest of her days had fate not intervened. Dragons returned to Skyrim, risen from their graves by magics beyond mortal ken, and beneath their wingbeats the very fabric of time and space shuddered. Unbeknownst to Astrid a dragon took up residence in Autumnshade Tower, an old tumble-down barely five miles from Avanchnzel’s rear entrance. Said dragon took umbrage at an unfamiliar human stumbling into its territory. Rather than killing her the beast flung her sideways through realities, finally landing in an unfamiliar land called Teragaia.

Teragaia was a different world then. Haven Weyr was smaller, its complement of dragons rather less varied, and every last one of them was wholly focused on beating back the mottled menace. Very few people marked Astrid’s arrival to this world at war, and that was precisely how she liked it. She set up in the wreckage of an abandoned airship some distance from the weyr and lived for some time in peace, undisturbed by the rest of the world.

It couldn’t last, of course, but by the time members of the weyr sought her ought Astrid was ready to be found. The weyr needed her, needed her expertise with mechanical constructs, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. At their behest Astrid packed up and moved shop, settling into a relatively-secluded workshop a stone’s throw from the weyr proper. There she built the mechanized defenses that protect the weyr to this day, each and every one crafted with the utmost love and care.

Then, out of nowhere, another set of dragonriders arrived. These ones claimed to be from Teragaia’s future. More worrisome, they claimed to need her expertise. No other would suffice.

A wiser woman would have spat in their faces. Astrid, however, was ready for a change. She accepted the dragonriders’ pleas and followed them forward in time to present-day Teragaia.

Abilities
Outdoorswoman: Astrid has spent the vast majority of her adult life alone in the wilderness. She knows how to track prey, how to bring down quarry, how to skin and gut them, and how to make use of every bit of everything she kills. She’s equally adept at more homely tasks like cooking and mending. Perhaps most useful of all, Astrid is an expert at moving unseen and unnoticed.

Ready for Anything: As befits a career outdoorswoman, Astrid is never without a plan. She handles catastrophes with aplomb, calmly and methodically doing whatever she must to survive.

Natural Healer: While Astrid has all the innate magic of a rock, she’s well-versed in herblore and basic first aid. If a wound doesn’t outright kill her, she’s probably got some herbal remedy tucked away in her kit that will pull her through.

Tinkerer: Astrid has an intuitive knack for disassembling, reassembling and altering mechanical constructs. This knack is what led to the creation and refinement of the Athid species, as well as the defense servitors built around Haven Weyr.
It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll
I am the captain of my fate, the master of my soul


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