Dawna Lionfang, Half-Elf Paladin

This will be the ongoing Dawna treatment.  Currently, this is not a background/past.  Here I'll be touching on the recent past, and the present, including mannerisms, style, and current events.  A few details from her past, including schooling and parentage will be present.

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Dawna is average height and curvy, muscular build, for a half elf.  She is voluptuous, with a rounded face, fuller cheeks, pointy chin and ears.   Her skin is fair and ivory, moving towards flushed and even ruddy when she's exerting herself.  Her eyes are a luminous bright summery leaf green.  Of all her features her large luminous almond shaped eyes and daintily pointed ears point at her mother's elven heritage.  Her hair wavy and a rich fiery auburn.  When she was on active duty, she kept it in a tidy short bob, just below her earlobes. During her mercenary days, she let it grow into soft, unkempt shoulder length waves.  During her time at the Inn, she has allowed it to grow long and thick, to the middle of her back, as befitting a lady, and keeps it pulled back in elaborate, elegant, and practical braids.  If she's spending an evening tending the inn, she'll braid precious stones, copper or gold chains, into her braid.

Her clothing is often feminine, well made, and practical.  She favors pale colors like off white, and dove grey, sometimes wearing dark greens, when she's getting dressed up.  She wears no jewelry, her only vanity is her elaborate braided hair, which she does adorn sometimes with chains and stones.  Her gowns are demure and plain.  She favors high cut necklines, often with square necks, or off the shoulder, with long skirts, slitted very high up her legs, on both sides. In cold weather, she layers soft wool gowns over a white linen chemise.  Many people think she just favors plain fashion, but the secret is that all her dresses and robes are tailored for practicality.  She's able to quickly buckle her breastplate on, and don the rest of her armor, without removing her dress, and without little details like ruffles, silly ribbons, and flaps getting in the way.  When she's not dressing for the inn, she wears men's riding clothes.  Soft, chocolate brown buckskin breechs, high boots, and a plain off white linen man's shirt, belted.  Mostly, she wears dresses, though.

She's never far from her double bladed axe.  It's a two handed weapon, with a short, stout handle.  The lower half of the handle is wrapped in grey leather.  Dawna keeps the blade razor sharp, and immaculate. She is particular about keeping the grey leather wrapping clean, supple, and in perfect condition.  She carries extra lengths of this soft, dyed leather, so she can re-wrap her axe, when it gets dingy.  She makes a point of doing this re-wrapping in a private place, away from prying eyes.  Under the wrapping, where her hands lay on the axe, there are elaborate runes carved.  She keeps them hidden from sight, and they are the key to many of her powers.  When going into battle, she connects with them, and chants their incantation, they come alive under her hands only.  When maintaining her beloved weapon, she rededicates herself to it, by tracing a bit of her own blood along some of these runes in the lower part of the handle, and whispering the ancient prayers.  This is essentially the only dogma she shows to some kind of perceived religion.  Her weapon is her religion, and she wields the ancient, symbolic, archaic thing with the same pride and reverence borne of centuries of axe wielding sheildmaidens.    

Mannerism:

Her demeanor at first seems regal and aloof.  She doesn't fall into conversation as easily as her more outgoing and bubbly half sister Kithri.  She is genuinely warm and pleasant, but has a hard time getting close to people.  In uncomfortable situations, she seems to rely on her militaristic bearing, so she becomes stiff backed and professional.  Rather, what she thinks is professional, most people find the behavior rude.  She lived a sheltered ascetic early life, and isn't exactly comfortable in large crowds, or with any kind of unnecessary attention.  When she's not patrolling the streets, working at the inn, or working side jobs, she leads a quiet comfortable life, either reading or practicing her maneuvers in her apartments, or sitting at her corner table, in the inn.  She does enjoy being around people, even though she isn't terribly outgoing.  Her training also causes her to be alert, leaning towards suspicious of people she doesn't know, especially in these trying times.  She's always wary of the criminal element.   She can take the measure of a person with a long look, and is often correct in her initial judgement.

Kouri Hotwind

Kouri comes off as quiet, antisocial, and standoffish.  She doesn't often allow people to get close to her.  She is most mistrustful of large crowds, where there's raucous men, and close quarters. She feel's most comfortable outdoors, and has a hard time sleeping or functioning within close confines, although she can adapt to most situations with time.  She is extremely shy, many judge her by her impressive size first, thinking her a fearsome creature, or those who are more familiar with minotaurs think she's proud, barbarous, and fast tempered.  None of these can be further from the truth. She is truly a child, at heart, a real late bloomer.  Kouri goes about with the mistrust and wonder of a child. Not immature, but not quite sure of her place in the world, either.

Her traveling companions are a mystery to everyone that observes.  She clings closest to a hot headed little bi-polar dwarf with a speech impediment, known only as Henry Senior, and a young scamp they call Trigger.  She alternately looks to Henry for guidance (however misguided that may be) and often tries to help steer him out of trouble.  Along with a recent companion, Dorn, they manage to avert most major fiascoes, both by soothing the dwarf, and acting as much needed public relations, and soothing the general population.  They have help in that matter from a mage named Videro.  Kouri mistrusts Videro, still, and can't help but notice that while he seems to show up to avert trouble, trouble often happens when he shows up.  She can't make heads of tails of his motives yet, but she observes.

Kouri was raised in one of the larger minotaur tribes.  Her father's family name was Blazehorn of the Thundering tribe.  Kouri's full name should have been Kouri kinBlazehorn, as her father's daughter, but well before she was born, the other males renamed him "Hotwind"  So, instead of Ahiga soBlazehorn, he was rebranded Ahiga Hotwind.  He was a great liar, and always told tall tales, from childhood.  He often boasted and spoke loudly about being the first  into battle, and of his own prowess.  The way the story goes, he died with boasts and lies on his lips.  When Kouri was very young, there was a raid on their encampment, and Hotwind turned and fled from the battle.  His hooves got tangled in his spear, and he fell upon it, killing himself in his cowardice.  Kouri's family name was forever shamed, and every where she turned throughout her whole childhood, men laughed loudly, and talked poorly about her father.  Women just stared.  Her mother, Olathe, was shown pity, and not driven from the tribe, instead she was stripped of all title and finery, and made to work as the tribe's washerwoman and latrine digger, a life of servitude.

Kouri and her mother lived on the outskirts of the encampment in a small, poor, tent, often exposed to the elements, and with little to eat, but what they could scrabble for.  Her mother was once considered a great beauty, although her mane is beginning to grey, and she has a careworn look to her.  That doesn't keep the tribe elders from raping and abusing her, like chattel.  Kouri grew up to hate and distrust men.  Her mother protected and sheltered her the best she could, but the daughter sees and hears.  Kouri came to avoid any gatherings and especially the tribe's gathering place, the longhouse.  It always terrified her, with it's hot, smoky confines, and loud noises.  Often her mother would have to go there, and pour ale for the men, and she always came back to their little tent abused, and crying.

To make matters worse, Kouri was born albino, and thought by the tribe to be god-shunned.  She was born without the rich tawny, gold, and black colors that the Thundering were famous for.  Instead, her skin is pale and translucent, her mane is pure white, and her horns are a pale coral color.  Her eyes, instead of the deep soulful brown of her tribe, are a pale washed out blue.  Her mother always told her that she was god-chosen, because she shone in the night like a star.  In her tribe's tongue, Kouri means "star reflected in the ocean".  But, her name, to the rest of the tribe was just one more thing to mock.  As she got older, and grew into her womanhood, the tribal elder's eyes began to turn to her.  Men started making comments about her body, and her mother was terrified that Kouri would be treated the same as she was.  The only thing keeping Kouri safe was that she was considered freakish, and to touch her was surely a curse.

Once, when Kouri was about 14 years old, her mother encountered an ancient elven druid, tending a grove close to where the camp had just settled for the spring hunt.  Olathe was cleaning bedclothes in a stream, beating them against a rock, when a fish swam up, and changed into a lithe, beautiful elf right in front of her eyes.  The elf knew Olathe was good, and offered her a chance.  She told her to have the tribe pick up and go somewhere else, because this grove and all creatures in it were under her care.  The elven woman who's name was Genna, wouldn't allow the Thundering to harm her children.  Olathe ran back to the tribe and relayed that information, and she was naturally laughed at.  She went back to the druid, in despair. Genna raged.  To thank Olathe for trying her best, Genna offered Olathe and Kouri a forever home with her, in her grove.  Olathe jumped at the chance to escape her difficult life, and offered herself in servitude to the noble elf.  That's how Kouri and Olathe came to live with Genna.  The spring hunt began, and tribe crashed through Genna's forest, slaying young deer, and trampling the tender shoots to the ground.  True to her word, at the first new moon, she changed into a panther, slipped into the camp, and ravaged the tribe.  She slayed Eldest, and his children, and the greatest Thundering hunters.  The remains of the tribe packed up and left shortly thereafter, leaving Olathe and Kouri behind, to what they thought was certain death.

Olathe lived out her last years in peace, helping Genna keep the grove, and her household.  In return, Genna taught Kouri everything she knew about tending the grove, and drawing primal power through herself, channeling nature's energy to help restore and preserve balance.  She befriended a wolf named Faolan, and life became peaceful and good, surrounded with the riches of the forest and loved ones, she wanted for nothing else.  Olathe passed away peacefully one night, and soon after, Kouri became restless. Genna sent her out into the world, to explore, travel, gather and "hunt" although instead of hunting innocent creatures, she began hunting knowledge, wisdom, herb lore from all cultures, and trying to find her place in society.  She's slowly learning that there's a huge world beyond her tribe, and Genna's peaceful grove.  

Kouri finds comfort in Henry Senior, because in some primal early childhood way, he reminds him of her own father, loud, brash, and in her mind, brave.  Her father was never a coward, in her eyes.  She's also happy with Trigger as a companion, because he's silent, and in many ways, a child himself.