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Physical Description

Tyranath, or "Tyr" to those who know him very well is a rather skinny elf of average height. He has a sharply angular face, just beginning to show signs of age and stress in the form of wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. His eyes are pale green, lacking the usual luminance of his people. His hair is is a dull black, worn loose, and falling just past his shoulders, bangs swept away from his face. He is well kept and has a healthy flush about his face that seems in direct contrast to his dim eyes and lackluster hair.

Tyranath always keeps his clothing in pristine condition, whether he is out and about in the city, or at home in the scriptorium. He can ocassionally be found with ink staining his fingertips, but prides himself on his ability to do his work without making a mess of himself.

At his hip, he carries a small pouch, which when opened gives off a pungent, floral stench. He also carries with him a satchel filled with a wide variety of herbs. On longer journeys, he carries a finely crafted staff.


History

Once a powerful mage and arcane magic addict, Tyranath now lives a peaceful life working as a master scribe in Eversong Woods. His skills as a scribe are well renowned, and his scriptorium sees visitors from all walks of life.

Tyranath has a single son, the hunter Helyx, who, up until recently was living at the scriptorium, training to become a scribe in his own right. As it is, Helyx and his lynx companion, Pocari have set off to further their training. They still return home at regular intervals, bringing with them herbs from far away places and stories of their great adventures. Even as Helyx adventures, he continues to learn the ways of the scribe, and he is a great source of pride and happiness for his father.

Helyx's mother, Tyranath's wife, Eloria, was killed many years ago by a raid of Tor'wathan trolls. These trolls came upon the scriptorium while Tyranath was away in the city, visiting an aracne crystal den for a fix. When he returned to find his son and the lynx battered, and near death, and the body of his wife broken and abused, he decided to break his addiction once and for all.

In order to overcome his addiction, Tyranath was also forced to put aside his study of arcane magics, which were a great source of temptation to him. Now he no longer practices the ways of the mage, and he has raised his son to be as resistant as possible to the call of the addiction.

In order to stave off his cravings, Tyranath developed a new, but much less harmful addiction to Blood Thistle. He carries a small pouch of the petals with him wherever he goes, and chews them when he is in need of calm or a steady hand.

Though he can come off as gruff and distant, there is kindness about him that can be brought out by those truly in need of his help. One need only look in the door of the scriptorium to see the many stray cats inside to understand.

The Cats

Over the years, Brightquill Scriptorium has become something of a cat sanctuary, where any feline can go for a good meal and undisturbed rest. There are a few kitty residents that have made it more of a permanent home, though, and they bring light and joy to Tyranath's life, even when he's feeling his worst.

Cats

Tuffins, Jura, Sir Puddlescruff, Primrose

From left to right, there is Tuffins, Jura, Sir Puddlescruff, and Primrose.

Tuffins was Tyranath's first feline companion. He was once a scrawny, malnourished stray until Tyr took him and nursed him to tubbiness. Now he follows Tyr everywhere, sometimes hiding in his herb satchel, or riding on his shoulders. He is very friendly.

Jura is one of the many other cats living with Tyr. She comes for the food and the warm patches of sun that shine through the windows, but is known to wander off for days at a time. Wherever she goes, she always comes back looking just as well kept as when she left. She is shy, but still reasonably friendly. She prefers a short, gentle head rub to a long petting session.

Sir Puddlescruff has scruffy fur and wide, crazy eyes. He is terrified of everyone, and has a habit of darting off at the slightest hint of...anything happening. However, on cold nights, he likes to sleep on Tyr's feet.

Primrose has short, curly fur that shines in the light. She has a look that seems to say she knows she's better than you. She marched into the scriptorium one day, knowing she deserved a treat, and when she got one, she decided never to leave. She spends much of her time grooming to make sure she's looking beautiful. If you muss her fur, be prepared for a long bout of cold shoulder.

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