Smol angry elf that is often on fire.
Tauriel was born into one of the more prolific elven families. Her birth was prophesied for generations, and she was said to be “the brightest hope in our darkest hour.” At a young age she was spoiled and treated with the utmost respect, with even the elders of her society considering her advice. She learned basic healing skills and was often found treating the wounded or the sick. Even though it has been years since she was venerated in this way, hints of a commandeering and bossy personality will always remain.
Tauriel made her way outside to consider a decision on which the elders had requested her advice. A new prophecy was coming from the School of Qyrozen, foretelling the rise of evil in a distant land. The elders had bickered for a long time, and were only now sharing the information with Tauriel in hopes of a refreshing point of view. Some of the elves wanted to shut off all interracial interactions completely, to protect their own, while others wanted to venture out into the other areas of the world to assist in any way they could. Tauriel’s own father, Talathel, believed they had a sacred duty to protect the earth and all good creatures in it.
She always made better decisions with night air in her lungs. With the sharpness of the cold, and the distractions covered by darkness, it was easy to focus. But somehow, tonight, her mind kept drifting. She thought of herself, of her future. Tauriel was concerned that this was all her life would be: giving advice because of some old prophecy and healing the sick. Her days were monotonous with decisions and studying. She was on track to become the best healer the elves had ever known…and she felt empty. She hadn’t chosen any of this for herself. The other elven children, they were taken on many excursions to learn about the world. Tauriel? Spoiled, yes, but kept within the community “for her own protection.” Looking out at the vastness of the heavens, she felt an unyielding urge to leave, to slip away immediately and explore the world for herself. In that moment, the only thing she wanted was to learn, to experience, to feel the adventure she knew her parents and her elders would always deny.
Then the screaming started. A raiding party of orcs was attacking her peaceful village. A young elf rushed out to lead her to safety, but Tauriel’s first thought was of her home. She slipped from her protector’s reach, and left him chasing and calling for her to return, to hide, to preserve herself. She could not listen. She made it to the edge of the village to find her mother, injured and wailing.
“Talathel…the elders…they’re all dead…”
“Shhh mother, let me move you to safety. We can’t stay here. I have to heal you.”
The young elf caught up to them. He led Tauriel and carried her mother to a small cave nearby. Tauriel mended the bleeding woman as best she could, but without supplies it was a lackluster effort. She looked up at her savior with anger and defiance in her eyes.
“Tauriel you can’t, you absolutely cannot return to the village right now. Didn’t you hear what your mother said? All of the elders are dead. Your father is dead. And who knows how many more? Please, girl, let me protect you and your mother. We can find supplies elsewhere, we can return after this is over, but-”
She stood, eyes blazing. “I am Tauriel, daughter of Talathel, and you do not command me. Step aside. I am going to bring medical supplies so that I may save my mother, because I have already failed to protect my father and the rest of the elders. You cannot stop me. You WILL not stop me.”
Cowed, he retreated. He bent over the dying elf and noticed that her breathing was becoming more and more erratic. She needed intense medical care, and quickly, or she was not long for this world. “Young one…hurry.” Tauriel ran.
Her home was burning. Everything had been set ablaze by the raiders, and there were no signs of life to be found. She didn’t save her father. She had no way to save her mother. Broken, dissociated, Tauriel stared into the flames and watched the smoke drift into the expanse of the heavens. She noticed, rather idly, that it was a beautiful night, that the sky was so clear she could almost touch the stars. Her knees locked up and she passed out, with the fiery heavens as her last sight.
doobeydoo lil nigga finds her and carries her back to the cave, doobeyda her mom is dead, doobeydoobey she starts crying and screaming in Abyssal and scares lil nigga away because now he thinks she’s a demon but actually her oracle powers are manifesting
beep boop now she’s a teenager, wandered around but lil nigga told every elf village she’s a demon so they won’t take her in, boop beep has to go to human cities and finds work doing medical shit, boopety bop she’s a traveling healer thing and Atrata’s mother Allayne takes care of her in secret for a bit, teaches her how to cook and fend for herself and shit, boppity beep boop Tauriel doesn’t know how to work with her hands much but makes Allayne a crude necklace to show her gratitude and adopts the symbol on it as her own
herp a derp she spends some time on a medical team in the war and meets Ferghan in passing but they don’t really have any interaction
duhn duhn duuuuuuhn continues traveling and healing, learns more about her tongues affliction and the healing powers that come with it, ends up in Malvarin for a few days, hears about dead city Kenebrath and decides to head that way to see if she can help
the night, nice things, meemows, being respected
being called a demon, orcs, not being able to see the stars, people she cares about being hurt
Tauriel is good at:
HEALING! making friends with animals, decision-making
Tauriel is bad at:
talking to people, teamwork, other people skills
Fluffy things that have happened in the campaign:
Once upon a time, I, Tauriel, dreamt I was a horse, neighing hither and thither, for all intents and purposes a horse. I was conscious only of my happiness as a horse, unaware that I was Tauriel. Soon I awakened, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then an elf dreaming I was a horse, or whether I am now a horse, dreaming I am an elf. Between an elf and a horse there is necessarily a distinction. The transition is called the transformation of material things.