Ewedol Drury

((This character will take up my 2/4 slot and be played on 5CHEIBE))

Character Name: Ewedol Drury

Race: Half-Elf

Age: 104? She doesn’t recall.

Gender: Female

Character Description:

Lean and lightly toned due to her mixed heritage, Ewedol stands about 5’8” on a profitable day and slumped beneath a bar stool on a drunken one. Her face is more rounded than it is angular, with full cheeks, an upturned button nose and a squared jawline. Sunlight easily flushes her features--less so in the beautiful, bronzed sort of way and more into a ruddy, oh-gods-it-burns kind of complexion. Though her hair is dark and dull, lacking in any perceivable glossy sheen, Ewedol prides herself with maintaining it often in neat, loose braids that frame her face and a larger braid nearly reaching her waist at the back. The tinge of her hair carries a sylvan, mossy green hue, a faint yet deeply rooted trace of her half-elven blood to pair pleasantly with her viridian eyes.

Passing conversations often skew strangers to mistake Ewedol as merely human. Not only did her mannerisms lack grace, but she curiously did not possess a characteristic most half-elves were oft identified by. Originally born with long and dagger-tipped ears, hers had both been shaved down and cauterized over into a mangled fold masquerading into the shape of a human’s. Rubbery, scarred tissue line the molded cartilage of her ears and the botched job often results in chronic inflammation that weakens her sense of hearing. In a past long forgotten to her and in the world where half-elves such as herself were a scorn to exist, Ewedol used to cover this up easily with her hair to keep the facade. These days, she tucks her hair back and sees little reason to hide, even has them pierced with painted clay earrings.

She favors loose and casual attire, fitting herself with open-necked blouses and a simple corset to flatter her frame. She tends to high waisted pants to compliment her high-laced boots and elongate her stature.

Character Occupation:

A coal miner in a past life. Over the past 30 years she’s managed odd jobs and may or may not have dabbled in the less than legal merchant market.

Character Personality/Traits:

Loud mouthed and passionate, it is evident Ewedol is driven by a strong ambition to let everyone know personally what’s on her mind at all times. She’s a rather opinionated sort, jumping from one conclusion to the next on a flip of the coin. In the heat of conversation she does not hesitate to pick a fight or press an argument for the mere sake of getting another’s blood to boil. She often laughs brazenly and spits words without a filter. Despite her churlish manner, Ewedol does genuinely enjoy the company of those who will engage in her shouting matches and yet still share a drink. She’s most certainly a nosy, extroverted sort who will even go as far as to drag others out of their quiet corners to sate her intrigue.

Optimistic, she tends to celebrate the small victories every chance she can get. Perhaps this is just an elaborate excuse to drown herself in alcohol every waking hour of the day… but the more the merrier! What’s your name? Great! Let’s go hit up the pub to rejoice in our buddin’ friendship! New experiences thrill her and she’s eager to pursue them, never letting go again, especially when all the ones she had before were robbed from her by the plague.

Even in the haze of hangover, Ewedol hardly ever entertains the feelings of remorse. She’s selfish at heart, opportunistic at best. She sees little issue in treading over a few toes to get ahead of what she wants and desires--whatever catches her eye at the moment. Why play fair when life’s a competition? She had to start over, and so can everyone else. She forms friendships quickly and will drop them just as easily if the stakes came between her life or theirs.

Character Biography:

Wrong place, wrong time. Simply put, sometimes all it took was one little misstep in no part of your own to completely reinvent the world one knew. Ewedol used to be a humble and kindly girl, one who found belonging in the strangest of places for her kind. She took the name of Drury among dwarves in the heart of Thonduhm, repaying their generosity by committing to honest work and heaving her lungs through the dust of the coal mines. The story behind that arrangement was a lengthy one admittedly, another tangent since forgotten.

Once upon a time, Ewedol could have personally told tale of her poor human mother, how she clutched to her wee hand as they fled from their stable beginnings in Elrin Orak, where golden wheatfields became fuel to blazing flame. Or later how her mother was robbed and murdered in the markets of a settlement just one year after they lost their home. A dwarf trader by name of Vakhalm Drury, flustered by the crying Ewedol stood before his stall, dismissed her just moments before it happened. No, he had not seen her mother. No, he couldn’t help her. By midday when the guardsmen found the body, Vakhalm overflowed his heart with pity for the girl and took her back to meet his wife, who had been expectant with their fourth son Mord. Of course, she panicked. It was a whole ordeal with the extended family of brothers and cousins, too. Only after they cropped her ears and shaped it into the guise of a human’s could they allow her to stay. Ewedol integrated quietly into the rare minority of humans that kept their heads low in the halls, occasionally lending a hand to accompany Vakhalm on his trades outside the city. He began to see her like a daughter, really.

She would have been thirty-five by the year Thonduhm fell to the Pact. At least, that’s what her brother Mord told her. Nevermind Ewedol’s question that followed on what the feck the Pact was. Their mother didn’t survive the final stretch to Barkamsted, promised to them as a city of refuge when word too of Silivrenmîr’s collapse caught their ears. Vakhalm wore a mask of steel for the three of them in the years that followed, now the only of the Drury family to remain. They did what they could to get by, but they all ended up working the mines since it was a struggle to find new merchandise to trade. Eventually, Vakhalm too died, not too long before the war would finally end. Mord shared a memory of he and Ewedol drinking in a dimly lit mineshaft celebrating their father’s life, talking about the future, about everything that they lost. He didn’t want to live in the tunnels forever and aspired to be like the old man. It started small until Mord and Ewedol negotiated enough deals to sell wares across the seas.

Went well for about five years, where the duo managed to avoid most of the conflict surrounding the tears in the void. Whatever the hell that meant, Ewedol wasn’t sure. Then the plague hit. Wrong place, wrong time. The two were packing up wares in Acaedia’s markets when the mainland sent word that Barkamsted had closed off for quarantine. Undead were ushered off the streets while the sick slowly perished in camps. Mord pointed out how he kept having to remind her why they couldn’t go back. She, like a few others that were onboard the ship they had traveled by, gradually grew more and more forgetful by the day. He told her it was like she was slowly becoming undone, and that when they knew it to be the curse it was too late by then for her.

Ewedol lost it all, nearly eighty years of her entire life’s worth of memories. At some point or another--she’s not too sure when--Ewedol and Mord were back in Barkamsted in a home she no longer recognized. He tearfully told her over and over that they were family, the only ones left. Hard to believe given the massive racial difference between the two. Her brother had a holy mage visit every chance they could, but Ewedol was one of the unlucky few that never had her memories returned despite all they tried. The months that followed were difficult. Awkward to boot. After having grown tired of the tension, Ewedol insisted that Mord take her out for a drink and to fill her in on all the gaps. It became a nightly ritual of theirs for Mord to share stories over the past until they both blacked out into a drunken stupor. To her, they always just felt like stories.

Disconnected from the current lifestyle she and her brother once worked so hard to create for themselves, this left Mord to spearhead all of their current affairs. Their set up grew more rocky after the Ca’Liar mistakenly attacked Barkamsted during the invasion of Acaedia. Witnessing Mord’s struggle to maintain business, Ewedol leaned into the less than tasteful idea of joining a team of scavengers to loot the recent dead during the Acaedian War. She spent the next two years by boat, helping collect bodies from the water and picking apart the scraps that her brother could sell. She found a habit of attracting a rotten crowd even after this and involved herself in more shady deals that she could never dare to admit. She dealt with thieves, bandits, drug dealers, and con-men alike, all racing to push each other aside to stride ahead of the curve. While the Knights Order allocated men into Pine Valley, Ewedol worked with a crew that exploited farmers following the blight that crippled many households for a year. When the first year long winter struck, she too was involved in taking advantage of these desperate times by distributing resources towards criminal groups. As far as Ewedol knew, her brother would be none the wiser and was rather distracted making goo-goo eyes at his new wife.

Through the terrorism of the Sons and the loss of the crossroads, Ewedol worked behind-the-scenes as a fence for supplying weapons and exchanging stolen goods to those who slunk around in the black markets. This continued for years, up until the second prolonged winter swept through the kingdom once again and suspended spring’s warm glow for whomever knew how many years more. Trade began to slow and inner conflicts between deals broke out, to the point where Ewedol attempted to quietly slip away. Despite her hopes that her brother would never be involved, when she stopped bringing in wares to sell Mord confronted Ewedol regarding the ordeal and fessed up that he always knew that she hid this side of the business from him. Her brother scolded her as if his ignorance elevated him above her actions. She snapped back, struck a cord of betrayal into her brother’s heart by insisting that he could never live up to their father’s legacy on his own. His dream was never one that he could do in earnest without a few bloodied coins to pave the way. When he retaliated by saying she never knew their father, Ewedol turned away from the home and trudged into the snow.

After nearly freezing off her nips in protest, her brother found her by the docks and pulled her into a hug. Though their relationship became a bit more strained following their argument, the two assured one another that they were still family. If that meant putting all the past behind them and wiping their hands clean of the merchant business, so be it. Mord encouraged his big sister to stop trying to dig herself too deep into the hole in an attempt to support him. Suuuuuuure, that’s what she was doing all this time.

With a potential niece or nephew on the way in part due to Mord’s hope to begin a family of his own, Ewedol simply moved on. There was nothing more to benefit from their broken off arrangement and now she was fresh out of a job. Whether she went on to begin a new, honest livelihood of her own or was daring enough to try to skirt around the judgment of the law… well, Ewedol was about to fuck around and find out.

Other/Extra:

Languages- Common, Dwarven