Sloane Renaeth
Sloane is stubborn, and highly intelligent. She was attending the University of the Bellowing Seas, a college specifically meant for Mages, Sages, and Sea Fairing folk, and was in quite high standing, not only due to her intelligence but tenacious cut throat nature with her peers. She can be naïve at times, due to her acceptance into the college at an early age.
Meet Sloane
Sloane comes from a small village on the outskirts of the Euthural Mountains, her immediate family is considered to be a social outcast from the pixy society for her fathers choice in a human partner. Her mom and dad moved to a rural community where there are a few other interspecies couples and her dad is a artisan, using his powers to sustain flowers and keep bees for mead making. Her mother operates the meadhall in the town, the largest in the area. Their village is along a major trade route for the area, so the meadhall brings commerce to the village during the peak seasons, making her mother and father well thought of within the community.
About Us
Due to a more sheltered upbringing and being the only child, Sloane is a little spoiled and didn’t quite understand the whiles of the world, until she was on her first field event for her mage training. She had made several enemies of the other students because of her quick uptake of the lessons. They injured her and abandoned her, while out in the field one of her injuries got infected and she caught the wilting disease that was cropping up in the pixies. By the time she returned to the college, the physicars were able to stall the progress of the disease but not before her wings rotted off. She still suffers from the disease and its full impact and origin is still unknown. Sloane has set out to solve the problem.
What is Sloane doing on a Saturday?
It’s Saturday at noon. In college Sloane would be on her way to a lunch with her friends in the dining hall, studying from their books and trading secrets of their peers and tidbits found in books.
While on the road to the Ethurual mountains to find the enigmatic entity for a potential cure, or at least a quick death, she is just packing up camp. She spent the morning relaxing and resting her soft feet cursing herself for not taking up minor mending or healing magic. Listening to the birds, watching a bee nuzzle a flower. The bumbling little insect tugged at a memory of another Saturday. She was in the greenhouse with her father tending to the flowers and making fun of the bees drunk on pollen. Trying to keep their voices low while mom slept in to prepare for a rowdy night in the meadhall. The simplicity of the memory casual love and tenderness in the quips her and her father would exchange ached deeply in her chest, and set emotion in her throat. She could never go home with her sickness, not risk her father catching it.
Got questions?
Feel free to reach out.
Faye Frossiart 