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Direnne
Direnne Whisperwood
| Name | Direnne |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Occupation | Errand Runner, Former Inventory Clerk at The Prancing Pony |
| Age | Youthful, somewhere mid-20s |
| Race | Man |
|---|---|
| Residence | Probably out on an errand, but often at The Prancing Pony. |
| Kinship |
| Outward Appearance | Height: About average. Maybe a tad on the tall side.
Eyes: Grey. Kind. Observant.
Hair: Ashy-blonde, cropped short just above her shoulders.
Build/Physical appearance: Slender but athletic, as she's almost always moving somewhere or something. Has lugged around her fair share of potato sacks, vegetable crates, and barrels of ale while doing inventory at various inns. Her hands are a bit calloused from constant work. Strong constitution and rosy cheeks from running errands outside at all times of day and all kinds of weather. Keen eyes and light on her feet--there is a deftness and dexterity to her movements, and she seems quite capable of looking after herself.
Attire: Generally simple but sturdy clothing. Definitely worn but well-taken care of--mended decently in various places. Often has a hood to shield her from the elements. When on errands outside of Breetown, she wears her trusty adventuring coat and pack. In town, often just a hood, cloak, and simple tunics, unless she's on the move. Prefers shades of burgundy and brown. A pair of daggers are usually in her belt when she's out and about, to ward off troublemakers and any other mischief.
Mannerisms/Personality: Usually rather quiet, but good-natured and affable. Often easily amused by those she meets. Perhaps a bit cautious in unfamiliar company at first, but will warm up to them if they seem like trustworthy folk. Unassuming and calm, but always aware of her surroundings. Her mother insisted on good manners, and they seem to have stuck around.
(Direnne. Image created using Artbreeder.) |
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Background
Born and raised in the small town of Archet, to the northwest of Bree and on the border of the Chetwood. Her parents worked at the Mad Badger Inn until the brigands burned it down (and a good part of the town) some years back. As she was growing up, Direnne learned some tailoring from her father and her letters from her mother, and was often underfoot at the Inn, listening to the tales that came in the door with travelers from far and wide.
It was there that she first heard stories of the fabled cities of the dwarves, and a deep desire to see these places with her own eyes was quietly kindled. However, practical matters came first. Namely, earning coin and being useful. If she could assist others along the way, so much the better.
Direnne made her way to Breetown, and having a decent knowledge of innkeeping, found a position helping part-time in the stockrooms at The Prancing Pony, managing deliveries, counting inventory, and mending linens. It was steady work, as there's always a bustling business at the Pony, but she would always (always) rather be out and about.
Which is why she took to running errands, delivering messages, doing tasks from the town message boards, and is generally in the business of finding things out. Sometimes on official business from The Prancing Pony to look after deliveries, connections, and such, but oftentimes not. No task is too small; not if it means learning things and lending a hand to those in need. Swift, efficient, and rather stealthy, she gets things done. Occasionally, the odd tailoring job will arise, and she'll take that too. Just being useful, as she says.
Direnne is always interested in meeting people and hearing their stories from Breetown and the great beyond. Usually, listening to others beside a warm fire with a mug of good ale is a likely place for those things to happen, as she learned when she was young. Friendly natures and good humor can contribute much to conversation and rapport.
But when need arises or in a pinch, she is pretty handy with those daggers often worn in her belt. Whether it be with daggers or a helping hand, she will readily come to the defense of others, or to the aid of those who require it.
| Friends | |
|---|---|
| Relatives | |
| Rivals/Enemies | None |
| Loves | Her independence. Warm fires on cold evenings. Resting under large trees that remind her of the Chetwood. Dwarven architecture. Good tales and good-hearted folk. |
|---|---|
| Hates | The flies in the Midgewater Marshes. Nasty biters, those. Otherwise, hate is quite a strong word. Would rather avoid those who condescend and lie, however. |
| Motivation | Earning coin and being useful. Would take any opportunity to go explore dwarven cities. Kindness towards others is never overrated. |
| Quotes |
