Fionn Chorbhie, mullog medic.

[fionn]

Name: Fionn Chorbhie

Race: Mullog

Tribe: Silvermarsh Mullogs

Gender: Female

Age: 19

Occupation: Medic, storyteller, charm seller

Overview: Smelling of rare herbs and also, inevitably, of mud and dust while sweeping through towering crowds like a ghostly child sent on some vital errand, Fionn is a striking figure. One could hardly blame people for staring at this outspoken, ironic and defiantly disheveled figure who will tell you she is a Mullog. She will also tell you that no, you needn’t have heard of them, nobody has. All the while, looking at you with frosty grey eyes surely as innocent as a baby’s, except that now she’s telling a story that would make an Ulvur sleep with the light on…

Proposed title:  prosaic waif? Still not sure about that.

Appearance
Height: Just under 3 fores.

Physical Appearance: In build she is fairly typical of a Mullog girl, if a bit skinnier due to her erratic health; slim, wiry, with a slightly oversized head and long arms that exacerbate her childlike appearance in the eyes of humans and other larger races.

 Her eyes increase this impression, as they are large and round. Her right eye is a frosty grey color, while the left is a milky-white at the centre that fades to a silver grey as it spreads from the pupil.

That side of her face is streaked with waxy black scarring that arcs in jagged lines from her face, over her shoulder and down to her left elbow, contrasting vividly with her pale grey-white skin, blushed in places with a very faint pink.

Her hands are small and delicate, and surprisingly strong. Her feet are small for her race, hardened by travel, but well cared for, with a birth-tattoo depicting a wispy, ghost-like figure spreading over the top of her right foot – a protective symbol bestowing the guardianship of the ancestors.

Clothing: Though she would never admit it, Fionn is secretly annoyed if, on returning to her family, they have no proclamations of disgust to offer on her attire. Typically she would wear a brightly coloured headscarf – yellow or orange, often intricately patterned.

Her skinny build means that even hobbit clothes are baggy on her, and it is nigh on impossible to get Mullog sized clothes unless they are tailor made, so Fionn’s slight build is emphasised by this. Her baggy, heavily patched shirt that probably used to be white, has sleeves too short for her wiry arms, and her trousers are torn and muddy at the ankles because she has turned them up carelessly.

Over these shabby garments she will drape a heavy, turquoise–grey great coat that she traded from a hobbit for a cough cure. The coat is very much a part of Fionn’s appearance, with its many pockets, filled with strange herbs, scraps of bone and bottles of coloured liquids, it smells strangely chemical from the mixture of medicines and humours that have been hidden in its slightly threadbare folds. The lining is pale green spilk, rarely seen as she keeps the collar turned up to hide the black scarring on her neck.

She always goes barefoot, not seeing the point in wasting money on shoes, and wears a kaimun shaped amulet, carved from the scale of the very same, hanging round her neck.

Personality: Always adventurous as a child, Fionn’s curiosity often meant that she learned the hard way where danger lay. She is unusually curious for a Mullog, keen to see just how far she could push her luck, which tends to get her into trouble. This has changed little as she has grown up, though her accident with the swampstalker has made her generally more cautious.

 She is practical and pragmatic, with a wry and somewhat cynical sense of humour. Being no stranger to pain and hardship, she is certainly not inclined to complain, but is also sympathetic to the suffering of others, something that helps in her profession.

Strengths: Healer: She had already learnt the essentials of traditional Mullog medicine, which basically meant knowing the uses of the various herbs that grew in the Galumbé. When she met the healer at Weyring, she saw the chance to improve upon her knowledge, and under his tutelage her skill flourished; she is now a talented and capable healer for her age, able to cure most kinds of contagious infection, bite, sting, fever, cut or break, as well as having enough common sense to improvise sensibly if faced with something unknown.

Charms:As, admittedly a rather lax follower of the Mullog religion, Fionn believes that making and wearing lucky charms and talismans can give powerful aid and protection, and augments her sporadic income by handcrafting such charms for those who will buy them, usually from scraps of wood, bone or leather that she finds. Initially she stuck mainly to the various symobols and talismans favoured by Mullogs, but quickly learned that she sold more when she copied common imagery from the more widespread Santharian religions.

Memory: Learning the stories and folklore of Mullog oral tradition trained her memory to its peak, which can be a great aid as a healer, allowing her to make an accurate diagnosis, as well as giving her a confidence in her own opinions that can be as much a hindrance as a help.

Dexterity: Small, muscular hands, a trademark of the Mullog physique, are put to frequent use in crafting the charms and talismans she sells, as well as in complicated surgery. A delicate, deft touch is much appreciated by her patients as well.

Languages: Whether it was the steep learning curves she was forced to take to make herself understood when she left the marshes, or some latent natural ability, Fionn has learned Tharian, Kuglimz-Seitre, and Elvish well enough to make herself understood most of the time, though she still reverts to Mullog when she wants to “express herself” completely frankly. The variety of languages she knows tend to reflect those spoken by her earlier, more desperate patients, i.e. those who were so ill they would resort to trusting a doctor of a strange, childlike and wasted appearance, who spoke barely a word of their language. Fionn found that, as a tool to take someone’s mind off pain and distress, trying to make her understand them was an excellent distraction, and also helped her to learn very disparate languages fairly quickly.

Tough: Despite illness, injury, and small stature, Fionn is a Mullog, which means she can endure great hardship, and is resistant to a variety of poisons.

Weaknesses: Ghunt’lor disease: Very rare in Mullogs, this condition has affected her since childhood, meaning she has to be careful not to eat meat, though she can manage small amounts of fish if she has to. She also has reduced stamina, and her restricted diet means she is often undernourished and skinny. This also puts her at a risk from accidental poisoning which means she has to take great care about relying on the help of others, something which has made her reluctant to accept any aid, whether she needs it or  not. Having lived with her illness since childhood, she can occasionally be complacent about it, preferring to concentrate on more important things such as patients, sometimes to the expense of her own health. Some Mullogs have attached a slight stigma to this, questioning whether the ancestors intended her to survive, as she is denied meat, a staple of Mullog diet. Others, though, including her parents, saw it as a challenge for the girl to allow her to prove her inner strength and the resourcefulness so valued by her race. Either way, it has marked her out since birth.

Swampstalker scarring: After being spattered with the corrosive sap of this creature, Fionn was left blinded in one eye and permanently scarred. She has learnt to cope very well with her reduced vision, but finds it hard to judge depth and distance. The prominent facial scarring is repellent to some people, though Fionn rarely lets their stares bother her.

Size: Being small and slight even among her own species, Fionn’s height is often a source of irritation to both herself and others, and she can be quite defensive about it. To humans unused to Mullogs she looks like a ghostly child, and this can provide a significant barrier to travel, or even having a sensible conversation.

Race: Mullogs are not well known outside the Galumbé, and as a result Fionn sticks out like a sore thumb when traveling. She has had to learn to ignore stares, to impose her will on a situation, to put up with condescension and prejudice calmly, and not to lose her temper, but nonetheless the irritation and frustration of always being the odd one out can be a drain. The knowledge that, back home, her family try not to talk about her and treat her choice of lifestyle as a shame on the community doesn’t help her to shrug off such isolation.

History: Fionn’s family were as ordinary as any Mullogs might be, and it remains a source of embittered speculation to them as to where she got such disreputable qualities as wander-lust and curiosity from.

As a child her abiding interest in stories and exploring the marsh made her parents cautiously hope that she might become a shaman, and they encouraged her to learn the panoply of herbal and folk medicine required.

It was around this time that she first began to develop Ghunt’lor disease. Anxious consultation with knowledgeable individuals from across the Gulumbé produced a diagnosis – the illness was rare among Mullogs, but had been known, and once the community adapted to it Fionn began to take it for granted, and rarely saw it as an impediment.

Aged 13 she came across an abandoned kaimun nest, and investigating it, found one living hatchling, which promptly became a favourite pet. She trained it to respond to instructions and with it as a companion she indulged in her favourite pastime – exploring the marshes, sometimes venturing as far as the deserted areas around Despondmire.

However, a couple of years later she and the kaimun, named Yainn (which translates loosely as smile), were wondering, in a furious temper, at the west of the marshes, on the edge of the Despondmire. Fionn had had a vicious row with her family, over her long excursions into the marshes, which seemed to have little point – sometimes she brought back food, but mostly she seemed to go just “to explore” as she said, which her family, probably fairly, saw as somewhat selfish, given that everyone else spent their time working. Reluctant to turn back, she paused and fell asleep in the sun. She woke to a sight that would own her nightmares for years to come; a looming shape, above her, wizened and grey, unmoving, but given away by round, glittering eyes. A swamp stalker, and too close to get away – she struggled to get up, but doubled up in agony as it showered her with digestive fluid. Yainn, obeying her screamed command, dragged her away from the swamp stalker, moving quickly into the Despondmire to put as much distance between himself and the angry creature as possible. He then dropped her on a small island and waited for her to tell him what to do next.

Fionn soon lost consciousness, and it was under a darkening sky that a figure on horseback melted into view, causing Yainn to slip hurriedly away. She would never see him again, as he returned to a semi wild existence. Mullogs occasionally saw him and came to regard him as a lucky companion to have out fishing, as he is skilled at driving fish towards a trident or net, provided he gets a reward.It’s probably best not to go into the details of what Dorian Thrall was doing in this desolate area of the marshes, but if asked directly, he would probably claim he was “just passing through”. Certainly it does not do to dwell on what the Mullogs would have done if they had found him, although he only skirted the edge of their territory. Nonetheless, his reaction to finding Fionn was admirably calm; not everyone would have any idea what to do when confronted with a sodden bundle of muddy rags, which, on cautious inspection, he was shocked to find was a mud caked, semi- conscious child, deathly pale with harsh, fast breathing and hands clamped tightly over her face.

He did his best to clean her up, and it quickly became clear how badly wounded she was. Quickly, he wrapped her in blankets and bundled her onto his horse, setting off at full gallop to Weyring, where he handed her over to the local doctor.

She spent much of the next weeks delirious or unconscious, and for a while the doctor despaired of saving her, for even when the fever broke she was clearly terrified of everyone who came near, and unable to eat anything, she would descend again into illness, unable to keep down anything he fed her. 

It was Dorian, who had grown attached to the strange creature, who eventually managed to persuade her that he was no threat, and through crude sign language worked out that she could not eat meat. From then on, with a careful diet, she began to steadily regain health, though she would never regain sight in one eye, and the scars were permanent.

Her recovery took long enough for Fionn to get a rudimentary grasp of Tharian, and to be enthralled by Dorian’s slightly embellished tales of the world outside her quiet little marshlands. When she was fit enough to walk, she put off her return to home, saying she would like to repay the doctor and Mr. Thrall, by working for them, if they didn’t mind. Seeing how quick a learner she was, and that she was already something of a healer, the doctor agreed, and what with one thing and another, she didn’t return to her home for over a year.

When her family found that their lost daughter was alive and relatively well, and what’s more had grown up since they last saw her, they were, of course, overjoyed. However, they soon found that the changes in her had been more than physical – learning about the sheer size of the world, that maybe the wisdom of her community was less than absolute, Fionn found that she didn’t quite fit in. after a month back at the marshes, she left, taking with her only what fitted in her pockets, to explore.

She returns occasionally, bringing shiny things for the children and lots of stories, but never staying long, preferring the family she imagines to the reality that lowers its eyebrows and cuts short her stories with complaints about the increased defences on outsider barges.

Belongings: Mainly medical supplies, which vary depending where she’s been, what kind of illnesses she’s had to deal with recently, and what she thinks she’ll need. These are kept in an assortment of bags, boxes and bundles in pockets and a battered leather satchel, which also holds camping equipment; blanket, pots and fire lighting materials; and a change of clothes. She almost always has bandages, various kinds of painkillers, such as por’mon or bladeleaf fern, and fever reducers such as Arvins cedar, frent mushroom and Juk’lan leaves, plus any other healing substances she can get her hands on.

She has a short craft knife with a stilted elk-bone handle, used for making talismans, cutting bandage, preparing medicine and myriad other small jobs.

In her pockets she also keeps small pretty things she’s picked up, all her money (never very much) string, a sewing kit and usually her lunch.

[Zann Lightbringer]

Greetings Fionn, and welcome to the Dream. Congratulations!! You're the 2nd person to create a mullog character! We need to get you approved. Comments in the fiery color of red.


Name: Fionn Chorbhie (pronounced corby), mullog, medic.(Please follow the correct layout for a CD. In this case, this should contain her name only.)

Race: Mullog

Tribe: do mullogs have tribes, as such?(None, but it is possible that the dev. forum will create another tribe, like that of the merfolks. To be on the safe side, you may write down : Silvermarsh Mullogs, or something like that.)

Gender: Female

Age: query – how do mullogs age? It’s unclear in their compendium entry. Is it an approximation between orc and Halfling, or what?(I think it's the same as humans.)

Occupation: Medic, storyteller, charm seller

Overview: Smelling of rare herbs, and also, inevitably, of mud and dust, sweeping through towering crowds like a ghostly child sent on some vital errand, Fionn is a striking figure, and one could hardly blame people for staring at this outspoken, ironic and defiantly dishevelled(disheveled) figure who will tell you she is a mullog and no you needn’t have heard of them, nobody has, all with frost grey eyes surely as innocent as a baby’s, except that now she’s telling a story that would make an ulvur sleep with the light on…

Proposed title: prosaic waif? Still not sure about that.

Appearance
Height: Just under 3 fores.

Physical Appearance: In build she is fairly typical of a mullog girl, if a bit skinnier due to her erratic health; slim, wiry, with slightly outsize head and long arms that exacerbate her childlike appearance in the eyes of humans and other larger races.

 Her eyes increase this impression, as they are large and round. One is a frosty grey, the other, the left one, is left milky white at the centre, fading to a sliver grey as it spreads from the pupil.

That side of her face is streaked with waxy black scarring that arcs in jagged lines from her face, over her shoulder and down to her left elbow, contrasting vividly with her pale grey-white skin, blushed in places with a very faint pink.

Her hands are small and delicate, and surprisingly strong. Her feet are small for her race, hardened by travel, but well cared for, with a birth-tattoo depicting a wispy, ghost-like figure spreading over the top of her right foot – a protective symbol bestowing the guardianship of the ancestors.

Clothing: though she would never admit it, Fionn is secretly annoyed if, on returning to her family, they have no proclamations of disgust to offer on her attire. Typically she would wear a brightly coloured headscarf – yellow or orange, often intricately patterned.

Her skinny build means that even hobbit clothes are baggy on her, and it is nigh on impossible to get mullog sized clothes unless they are tailor made, so Fionn’s slight build is emphasised by a baggy, heavily patched shirt, that probably used to be white, with sleeves too short for her wiry arms, and trousers torn and muddy at the ankles because she has turned them up carelessly.

Over these shabby garments she will drape a heavy, turquoise–grey great coat that she traded from a hobbit for a cough cure. The coat is very much a part of Fionn’s appearance, with its many pockets, filled with strange herbs, scraps of bone and bottles of coloured liquids, it smells strangely chemical, from the mixture of medicines and humours that have been hidden in its slightly threadbare folds. The lining is pale green spilk, rarely seen as she keeps the collar turned up to hide the black scarring on her neck.

She always goes barefoot, not seeing the point in wasting money on shoes, and wears a kaimun shaped amulet, carved from the scale of the very same, hanging round her neck.

Personality: Always adventurous as a child, Fionn’s curiosity often meant that she learnt(learned) the hard way where danger lay. She is unusually curious for a mullog, keen to see just how far she could push her luck, which tends to get her into trouble. This has changed little as she has grown up, though her accident with the swampstalker has made her generally more cautious.

 She is practical and pragmatic, with a wry and somewhat cynical sense of humour. Being no stranger to pain and hardship, she is certainly not inclined to complain, but is also sympathetic to the suffering of others, something that helps in her profession.

Strengths:
(Her skill in crafting charms and talismans should be listed as a strength. Also, what kind of charms does she make? Is it for those who follow the mullog religion? Or perhaps other deities to sell to others?)

Healer: She had already learnt(learned) the essentials of traditional mullog medicine, which basically meant knowing the uses of the various herbs that grew in the Galumbé. When she met the healer at Weyring, she saw the chance to improve upon her knowledge, and under his tutelage her skill flourished; she is now a talented and capable healer for her age, able to cure most kinds of contagious infection, bite, sting, fever, cut or break, as well as having enough common sense to improvise sensibly if faced with something unknown.

Memory: Learning the stories and folklore of mullog oral tradition trained her memory to its peak, which can be a great aid as a healer, allowing her to make an accurate diagnosis, as well as giving her a confidence in her own opinions that can be as much a hindrance as a help.

Dexterity: Small, muscular hands, a trademark of the mullog physique, are put to frequent use in crafting the charms and talismans she sells, as well as in complicated surgery. A delicate, deft touch is much appreciated by her patients as well.

Languages: Whether it was the steep learning curves she was forced to take to make herself understood when she left the marshes, or some latent natural ability, Fionn has learnt(learned) Santharian, Kuglimz-Seitre, Mermish, and Elvish(Wow. Each of those languages are entirely different from each other. How did she learn all of this?) well enough to make herself understood most of the time, though she still reverts to Mullog when she wants to “express herself” completely frankly.

Tough: Despite illness, injury, and small stature, Fionn is a mullog, which means she can endure great hardship, and is resistant to a variety of poisons.

Weaknesses:
Ghunt’lor disease: Very rare in mullogs, this condition has affected her since childhood, meaning she has to be careful not to eat meat, though she can manage small amounts of fish if she has to. She also has reduced stamina, and her restricted diet means she is often undernourished and skinny. This also puts her at a risk from accidental poisoning which means she has to take great care about relying on the help of others, something which has made her reluctant to accept any aid, whether she needs it or  not. Having lived with her illness since childhood, she can occasionally be complacent about it, preferring to concentrate on more important things such as patients, sometimes to the expense of her own health.(Mullogs are not very friendly towards other races. In fact, they fear them.)

Swampstalker scarring: After being spattered with the corrosive sap of this creature, Fionn was left blinded in one eye and permanently scarred. She has learnt to cope very well with her reduced vision, but finds it hard to judge depth and distance. The prominent facial scarring is repellent to some people, though Fionn rarely lets their stares bother her.

Size: Being small and slight even among her own species, Fionn’s height is often a source of irritation to both herself and others, and she can be quite defensive about it. To humans unused to mullogs she looks like a ghostly child, and this can provide a significant barrier to travel, or even having a sensible conversation.

Race: Mullogs are not well known outside the Galumbé, and as a result Fionn sticks out like a sore thumb when travelling(traveling). She has had to learn to ignore stares, to impose her will on a situation, to put up with condescension and prejudice calmly, and not to lose her temper, but nonetheless the irritation and frustration of always being the odd one out can be a drain. The knowledge that, back home, her family try not to talk about her and treat her choice of lifestyle as a shame on the community doesn’t help her to shrug off such isolation.

History: Fionn’s family were as ordinary as any mullogs might be, and it remains a source of embittered speculation to them as to where she got such disreputable qualities as wander-lust and curiosity from.

As a child her abiding interest in stories and exploring the marsh made her parents cautiously hope that she might become a shaman, and they encouraged her to learn the panoply of herbal and folk medicine required.

It was around this time that she first began to develop Ghunt’lor disease. Anxious consultation with knowledgeable individuals from across the Gulumbé produced a diagnosis – the illness was rare among mullogs, but had been known, and once the community adapted to it Fionn began to take it for granted, and rarely saw it as an impediment.

Aged ? she came across an abandoned kaimun nest, and investigating it, found one living hatchling, which promptly became a favourite pet, which her parents grudgingly allowed her to keep, consoling themselves that it was atleast a suitably impressive and symbolic creature for a girl who would surely be a shaman when she grew up.(The kaimun is a very useful animal for the mullogs; they eat the meat, use the hide as clothing(It is in fact quite expensive) and use the teeth and claws as accessories. Wouldn't her parents happily allow her to keep an animal like that?)

However, a couple of years later she and the kaimun, named Yainn (which translates loosely as smile), were wondering at the west of the marshes, on the edge of the Despondmire. Reluctant to turn back, she paused and fell asleep in the sun(Mullogs pretty much stick to their homes, unless they're out to hunt and gather food. Even then, they won't wander to the edge of their home swamp just to get food; they'll gather whatever edible items in their vicinity.). She woke to a sight that would own her nightmares for years to come; a looming shape, above her, wizened and grey, unmoving, but given away by round, glittering eyes. A swamp stalker, and too close to get away – she struggled to get get up, dut(What is a dut?) doubled up in agony as it showered her with digestive fluid. Yainn, hearing her yell of pain, dragged her away from the swamp stalker(That is a smart critter. Please keep in mind that they're creatures, capable of only thinking for themselves, or otherwise being very dependent on their owners, like dogs and cats.), moving quickly into the Despondmire to put as much distance between himself and the angry creature as possible.

Fionn soon lost consciousness, but the mud that Yainn inadvertently coated her(See animal comment above.) with reduced the harm that the swamp stalker venom might otherwise have done. Nonetheless, she was in a terrible state when an exhausted and confused Yainn finally found a lonely campfire in the middle of the marsh.(I would think that the animal's instincts will tell it to flee from strange things. In fact, the kaimun fear humans and other races.)

Its probably best not to go into the details of what Dorian Thrall was doing in this desolate area of the marshes, but if asked directly, he would probably claim he was “just passing through”, nonetheless, confronted with an adult kaimun, his reaction was admirably calm – he stood very still, and waited to see what would happen next. To his astonishment, it deposited a sodden bundle of muddy rags, and slid silently back into the water(See animal comment above.). On cautious inspection, he was shocked to find a mud caked, semi- conscious child, deathly pale with harsh, fast breathing and hands clamped tightly over her face.(It is a surprise that other mullogs residing in that place tolerated his presence. Mullogs guard their territory viciously and would not allow trespassers to their lands. Refugees and children are an exception, though.)

His dinner forgotten, he did his best to clean her up, and it quickly became clear how badly wounded she was. Abandoning any of his belongings that couldn’t be packed in two minutes, he wrapped her in blankets and bundled her onto his horse, setting off at full gallop to Weyring, where he handed her over to the local doctor.

She spent much of the next weeks delirious or unconscious, and for a while the doctor despaired of saving her, for every time the fever broke and she was able to eat something, she would descend again into illness, unable to keep down anything he fed her. It was Dorian, happening to visit when she was conscious and coherent one evening, that wondered aloud if maybe mullogs ate differently to humans, and her frantic attempt to say that yes, yes I don’t eat meat for the ancestors’ sake, please no more meat, got through to him(How did she understand the human's language? Also, meat (whether fish or land dweller) are a staple for the mullogs. Why would her ancestors deny her of it?). From then on, with a careful diet, she began to steadily regain health, though she would never regain sight in one eye, and the scars were permanent.

Her recovery took long enough for Fionn to get a rudimentary grasp of Santharian, and to be enthralled by Dorian’s slightly embellished tales of the world outside her quiet little marshlands. When she was fit enough to walk, she put off her return to home, saying she would like to repay the doctor and Mr. Thrall, by working for them, if they didn’t mind. Seeing how quick a learner she was, and that she was already something of a healer, the doctor agreed, and what with one thing and another, she didn’t return to her home for over a year.

When her family found that their lost daughter was alive and relatively well, and what’s more had grown up since they last saw her, they were, of course, overjoyed. However, they soon found that the changes in her had been more than physical – earning(earning?) about the sheer size of the world, that maybe the wisdom of her community was less than absolute, Fionn found that she didn’t quite fit in. after a month back at the marshes, she left, taking with her only what fitted in her pockets, to explore.

She returns occasionally, bringing shiny things for the children and lots of stories, but never staying long, preferring the family she imagines to the reality that lowers its eyebrows and cuts short her stories with complaints about the increased defences on outsider barges.

Belongings: Mainly medical supplies, which vary depending where she’s been, what kind of illnesses she’s had to deal with recently, and what she thinks she’ll need. These are kept in an assortment of bags, boxes and bundles in pockets and a battered leather satchel, which also holds camping equipment; blanket, pots and fire lighting materials; and a change of clothes. She almost always has bandages, various kinds of painkillers, such as por’mon or bladeleaf fern, and fever reducers such as Arvins cedar, frent mushroom and Juk’lan leaves, plus any other healing substances she can get her hands on.

She has a short craft knife with a stilted elk-bone handle, used for making talismans, cutting bandage, preparing medicine and myriad other small jobs.

In her pockets she also keeps small pretty things she’s picked up, all her money (never very much) string, a sewing kit and usually her lunch.

Familiars: (Is the kaimun still with her?)

And there you go. Here are some useful links concerning your CD.
The Mullogs
The Kaimun

And here is an approved CD of a mullog, use it as some sort of a guide. I hope Drasil doesn't mind.
Hmmbe Uhm

Once you're finished with the comments, I'll give you another check.
Have a nice day.

[fionn]

thank you, i've done my best on those excellent corrections, they probavly still need tweaking, but im tired
corrections in vividgreen, and for some reason everything else in yellow. i will sort that out tomorrow. night night.

[Zann Lightbringer]

Hello Fionn.

If you do not have a familiar, then you can safely delete that part. The reason I asked for a familiar section is because the part about your Kaimun was unclear at that moment; I thought it was traveling with you.

Have a nice day.

[Simonne Miller]

Hey Fionn,

Zann asked us moddy types to take a look here because he thinks you're ready for an approval. I would agree, but for some very, VERY minor things:

- In the strengths, about the amulets she makes, she sells them to anyone who will 'but' them. I guess you mean buy.

- The languages: it's not Santharian, it's Tharian. You mention it again in the history Also, which patient did she have that she learned Mermish from? I mean, the other languages you mention are I guess pretty common, though Tharian is the most common of all. But Mermish is such a small language, and spoken only by the mermaids, that she would have had to treat a mermaid, and that would be a story worth the telling in your history. Otherwise, you're not going to talk Mermish anyway, since there are only two mermaids on the boards and one isn't even being played, and most of the stories don't play near water, so I guess you can drop that language without really affecting your balance at all. So long as you know Tharian, you can make yourself pretty much understood everywhere, by the way. Just so you know ;-)

And that's it! When you take care of those things, I think I can give you an approval

[fionn]

well i think that's everything...
thank you very much for your advice and everything, i think this will be a fun character to play with, so i want to get it right.

[Nox Echiiscuan]

Hello! All of my comments will be made ravishing in red.

(capitalize.-> name: Fionn Chorbhie

Race: Mullog

Tribe: Silvermarsh mullogs<-capitalize.)

Gender: Female

Age: 19

Occupation: Medic, storyteller, charm seller

Overview: Smelling of rare herbs,<-remove this comma.) and also, inevitably, of mud and dust,<-remove comma.) while sweeping through towering crowds like a ghostly child sent on some vital errand, Fionn is a striking figure,<-period.) and<-remove.) one<-capitalize.) could hardly blame people for staring at this outspoken, ironic and defiantly disheveled figure who will tell you she is a mullog<-capitalize.)<-period.) and<-remove.) And she will also tell you that, no<-comma.) you needn’t have heard of them, nobody has,<-period.) all<-capitalize.) the while, looking up at you with frost<-frosty grey eyes surely as innocent as a baby’s, except that now she’s telling a story that would make an ulvur<-capitalize.) sleep with the light on… Hehe. Very nifty. I like it. This last bit with the Ulvur is particularly giggle-worthy. One problem, though. It's a paragraph long sentence. So I've broken it up into multiple sentences for you.

Proposed title: prosaic waif? Still not sure about that.

Appearance
Height: Just under 3 fores.

Physical Appearance: In build she is fairly typical of a mullog<-capitalize.) girl, if a bit skinnier due to her erratic health; slim, wiry, with a slightly outsize<-do you mean "oversized"?) head and long arms that exacerbate her childlike appearance in the eyes of humans and other larger races.

 Her eyes increase this impression, as they are large and round. One is a frosty grey, the other, the left one, is left milky white at the centre, fading to a sliver grey as it spreads from the pupil. <-I suggest rephrasing this sentence to something along the lines of "Her right eye is a frosty grey color, while the left is a milky-white at the centre that fades to a silver grey as it spreads from the pupil.")

That side of her face is streaked with waxy black scarring that arcs in jagged lines from her face, over her shoulder and down to her left elbow, contrasting vividly with her pale grey-white skin, blushed in places with a very faint pink.

Her hands are small and delicate, and surprisingly strong. Her feet are small for her race, hardened by travel, but well cared for, with a birth-tattoo depicting a wispy, ghost-like figure spreading over the top of her right foot – a protective symbol bestowing the guardianship of the ancestors.

Clothing: though<-capitalize.) she would never admit it, Fionn is secretly annoyed if, on returning to her family, they have no proclamations of disgust to offer on her attire. Typically she would wear a brightly coloured headscarf – yellow or orange, often intricately patterned.

Her skinny build means that even hobbit clothes are baggy on her, and it is nigh on impossible to get mullog sized clothes unless they are tailor made, so Fionn’s slight build is emphasised by this. a<-remove.) Her baggy, heavily patched shirt,<-remove comma.) that probably used to be white, with<-remove.) has sleeves too short for her wiry arms, and her trousers are torn and muddy at the ankles because she has turned them up carelessly.

Over these shabby garments she will drape a heavy, turquoise–grey great coat that she traded from a hobbit for a cough cure. The coat is very much a part of Fionn’s appearance, with its many pockets, filled with strange herbs, scraps of bone and bottles of coloured liquids, it smells strangely chemical,<-remove comma.) from the mixture of medicines and humours that have been hidden in its slightly threadbare folds. The lining is pale green spilk, rarely seen as she keeps the collar turned up to hide the black scarring on her neck.

She always goes barefoot, not seeing the point in wasting money on shoes, and wears a kaimun shaped amulet, carved from the scale of the very same, hanging round her neck.

Personality: Always adventurous as a child, Fionn’s curiosity often meant that she learned the hard way where danger lay. She is unusually curious for a mullog<-capitalize.), keen to see just how far she could push her luck, which tends to get her into trouble. This has changed little as she has grown up, though her accident with the swampstalker has made her generally more cautious.

 She is practical and pragmatic, with a wry and somewhat cynical sense of humour. Being no stranger to pain and hardship, she is certainly not inclined to complain, but is also sympathetic to the suffering of others, something that helps in her profession.

Unfortunately, I've run out of time. Sorry.

Before I depart, I would just like to point out that you have some sentences that simply don't being with a capitalized word. Please exercise correct grammar and, also, be sure to capitalize any name of any race (such as Mullog or Orc) since, being the name of the race, it is a proper noun.

Anyway, I'll try to find time later to finish nit-picking my way through your CD for you. However, right now I have to go. Have a good one.

Bobspeed,
~ Nox ~

[fionn]

right, i think i've found all the grammatical errors i can (that was never going t be my strong point). and look, a picture! i'll probaly cange it cos the dimensions are funny.
does anyone have an opinion on the title? i'm not entirely happy about that one (quite like the word "prosaic") but have no ideas. a bit stuck on that front.

[Simonne Miller]

All right, first approval given!

[fionn]

yayyyyy! thankee kindly ma'am!!!

[Nox Echiiscuan]

Woo. Nicely done, Fionn. I'm all inspired to actually work on my Mullog for once.

!Second Approval!

[fionn]

thank you, efaristo, gracias, merci and danke shcon a thousand times!

[Kalína Dalá'isyrás]

Go ahead and remove the color and I will move it to the archives

[fionn]

yay, thank you!

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