Native Language: Elven
Studied: Common, Dwarf

Spheres of Influence

Major: All, Chaos, Combat, Creation, Law, War

Minor, 2 sp/level: Guardian, Protection, Travellers

Minor, 3 sp/level: (up to 3rd level spells only) Divination, Healing, Necromantic

Zaine's Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder Symptoms
Mood swings or frequent crying (primary/very severe symptom)
Lasting irritability or anger that affects other people (primary/very severe symptom)
Feelings of sadness or despair, or even thoughts of suicide (secondary symptom)
Feelings of tension or anxiety (secondary symptom)
Trouble thinking or focussing (secondary symptom)
Trouble sleeping (secondary symptom)
Feeling out of control (secondary symptom)

Average Duration of PMDD Symptoms: 4 days
Average Duration of Menses: 9 days

Subdual healing with spells: 2/hr
Injured: 22 Berchtamåne 1472
(Zaine had a sprained L wrist, sprained R ankle and a broken bone in her R foot (proximal 5th metatarsal fracture) and a hideously wrenched back)
Out of Casts: 22 Allfather 1473

Items from Haven
(no longer in Zaine's possession)
Prayer Beads Of Displacement--opal beads, that displace the light: 485 sp--traded for Holy Symbols
Silver bracer, sold for the value of the metal

Zaine was born in a quiet elven village in the depths of Oldenwood, past the unknown lands (at least unknown to the humans…the elves knew them very well; they called them Hrávador, the Wilderness) in the foothills of the Barrier Mountains. Her mother, Aegliriell, was not married, but that was of far less importance than Zaine's heritage; the whole town was appalled when they discovered the child was of mixed blood, a despised gotii, an outsider. They knew that half-elves existed, of course--after all, boys will be boys--but such disgraceful miscegenation was never mentioned in polite society. For a woman to so dishonour herself, and then to actually bear her misbegotten fruit, bringing shame to her entire community…well, that was something else entirely.

Aegliriell certainly hadn't intended to become pregnant; she'd been gathering sloes and nuts for the winter and had wandered very far afield when she'd been set upon by a band of ogres and captured. She was destined for the stewpot, until--seemingly from nowhere--came salvation in the form of a platoon of humans out doing reconnaissance (she learned later that a large encampment of ogres, half-ogres, orcs, half-orcs, orogs, and ogrillons had been raiding both human and elven settlements with great viciousness and complete impartiality; the Borren Army was gathering the information necessary to mount an effective assault against them).

Seeing her plight, the humans had unhesitatingly attacked, killed her captors, and freed her; however, they couldn't escort her back to her village right away…between Aegliriell's own roamings and the distance her captors had transported her, they were a good ten days away, maybe more, and they had to complete their mission. Instead they had invited Aegliriell to accompany them; they would protect her until such time as they could see her safely home. Gratefully she had agreed.

Initially the platoon commander, one Lieutenant Daniel Strone, had appealed to her no more than an orc or monkey would have; he was much too big and muscular and hairy to fit elven standards of masculine desirability. But…he was unfailingly polite and considerate, and he had a dry sense of humour that was quite elven at times. Over the next several days she also came to appreciate the beauty of his exotic dark eyes, his smooth golden-brown skin, and the silken softness of his hair, black as a raven's wing.

They'd fallen into the habit of talking far into the night, staring into the campfire and cuddled together for warmth, his heavy cloak around them both, for the mountains were bitter in late autumn. They were thus occupied when his kiss brushed her cheek; she found it unexpectedly pleasant, and arched her neck, inviting more. When his mouth came hungrily down on hers, her lips parted eagerly, and her arms wrapped around his neck…

It was only a fling; Daniel and Aegliriell both knew it wasn't--couldn't be--anything more. Still, despite the hardship and danger (or because of it, making them appreciate the moments of joy and pleasure all the more) they shared a delightful interlude, and felt a pang of regret when, two months later, just a few days before Yenearsira, the platoon was finally able to bring Aegliriell back home. The humans were received cordially, for not only were they returning the daughter the elves had mourned for dead, but word had come of the Borren Imperialists decisive victory over the ogrekin marauders. Still, in those days, when the return of Raziel Mallaithe was but a faint shadow on the horizon, and the need for cooperation and amity between all races was not yet realised, they were not encouraged to linger. Aegliriell never expected to see her human indiscretion ever again.

Gwaeron was the month of awakening, of sap rising, of snow melt, of stirring, as animals prepared to come out of hibernation, but for some reason all Aegliriell wanted to do was sleep. Gwirith, the month of buds, was worse; not only weary and listless, she began to feel acutely unwell; the formerly pleasant scents of cooking were enough to leave her doubled over in nausea. Her breasts were tender and full…she feared she knew what ailed her, but her mind recoiled from the thought in horror and disgust. But perhaps…perhaps… she tried to convince herself, grasping at straws, "Ethuilmereth is nearly upon us! My courses always flow afterward with the flowers of Lothron, even when I do not bleed in Hithui…that must be it…my body is just making up for the cycle I missed…"

Lothron came and went with no tinge of blood, but by the end of the month she was definitely feeling better. She had more energy, and instead of nausea she found herself constantly hungry. Her waist thickened and her breasts continued to swell, but she desperately attributed that to her increased appetite. She adamantly refused to admit to herself what she knew, but by Urui, no matter how she tried, she could deny the truth no longer. It crashed and broke upon her like a mighty wave on the shore, for she felt the unmistakable stirrings of life within her belly. Only then did she fall to her knees; pounding her fists on the floor, vehemently cursing both Daniel and her own carelessness, she wept for hours in utter desolation and scalding shame.

Aegliriell tried to hide her condition a while longer, but by Faemereth everyone in the village knew she was breeding. She braved the disapproving looks, the snide whispers, with a facade of bold indifference, but inside she quailed, and was sick with dread at the greater denouement she knew awaited when the paternity of her child was discovered.

The winter passed, melted into spring, but the icy fist around her heart tightened its stubborn grip, even whilst her belly grew with each passing day. She couldn't believe how quickly her pregnancy advanced, how strong and active the life she carried, until, on the seventh day of Lothron, six months before any full elven child should have been born, she felt her pains come upon her, sudden, hard and driving. For a few hours she dared hope; perhaps a babe born so early would not survive--she could in time live down the stigma of an unwed pregnancy, and her greater transgression would never be known--but such was not to be. She laboured for twenty-four hours before bringing forth a black-haired little girl who let out a vigorous yell the moment she emerged from the womb, who was round and rosy and completely developed, who kicked and flailed strong limbs even as her infant ululations filled the room, who was obviously a full term child…of mixed blood. Still…her daughter, her flesh. Quiet tears streamed down her cheeks as she suckled her newborn.

The shaming was no longer subtle. Disapproving looks gave way to open scorn and hostility, snide whispers became crude shouted insults. Aegliriell heard, "hukaa, echilendil, puhtar, sawemil, ittee"--slut, human-lover, fucker, filthmother, whore--and worse every time she ventured outside her humble cottage, and was ostracised by the community that had been home since she was born. As soon as she had regained her strength, she packed up her child and headed into the woods.

Aegliriell was a forager by trade, and a good one. She knew just where to find the special herbs the healers needed, and how and when to harvest them. That was the main source of her livelihood, but she'd also discovered the finest stands of beech and butternut, walnut and hickory, oak, pine and chestnuts, the thickest, sweetest berry brambles, the largest sloes, and much more. These she collected too, and either sold or used to feed herself and, astonishingly soon, her daughter, for Zaine developed much more quickly than any child she'd ever seen! By the time she was three, she was walking; by six she had weaned herself and was talking. Not just a word or two either, but phrases and even sentences, as if she were a baby of fifteen or more.

Prior to her pregnancy, Aegliriell had been a rather solitary woman; her profession saw to that. Still, she'd had friends, or so she had believed. Most of them turned their backs on her, one or two going so far as to join that harpy's choir of the most virulent voices raised against her. Yet the mother and child weren't quite bereft; one woman, a friend since childhood, stood fast, making sure they were never destitute, but even she timed her visits so that no one saw her comings and goings. Another ally was the village midwife who helped Aegliriell sell the wares she gathered, and with the proceeds bought those things the single mother could not make for herself; that good woman knew the dirty secrets hidden behind the sanctimonious fronts of many of the elves loudest in their mean-spirited sneering and bullying, and refused to judge. (In fact it was she who named the baby…Zyainu, a unique name that soon elided to Zaine, meant "belonging to god".)

Despite such help, life grew harder and harder for Aegliriell and Zaine. Not materially; they had enough to eat, a roof over their heads come winter, and adequate clothing. But Zaine, like all children, needed companionship. Her outgoing baby friendliness was cruelly rebuffed. At nine, still trusting and innocent, she asked her mother what urug meant. By the time she was fourteen, head down and shoulders hunched against the abuse, she simply endured the taunts, the hitting, the shoving, no longer expecting anything else. Summers they could escape to the forests, but all through the winters she was called urug (monster) saw (filth) sawnad (thing of filth) penvalda (worthless) úvanë (without beauty) thaur (foul) saura (foul, evil-smelling, putrid) ogol (evil, nasty) and dagnir (bane). It broke Aegliriell's heart to watch it, but she didn't know what else she could do…until one day when Zaine, not quite nineteen, saw her face in the midwife's mirror. "Nányë ulurug," (I am an ugly monster) she'd said with quiet acceptance, as the tears trickled down her beautiful, but very human, cheeks.

Although it was still early spring, the next day mother and daughter left on a longer excursion than usual, and one fraught with a greater purpose that Aegliriell kept to herself. They travelled for many days until they came to a military outpost at the border of Borren, the one deepest in the Oldenwood. While they were still a few miles away, Aegliriell made Zaine hide and promise not to make a sound until she returned, then set off alone. Standing outside the gate, she politely asked to speak with "the elders of the warrior city". To have an elf of Oldenwood come seeking out contact with humans was almost unprecedented; most did everything possible to avoid it. She was admitted and passed up the chain-of-command, patiently explaining, first to the Lieutenant, then to the Captain, and then to Major Elgin, the fort commander, that she needed to locate Lieutenant Daniel Strone. Lieutenant Strone had left something very valuable in her village, and it needed to be returned to him…

Aegliriell was very lovely, very sincere, she passed a Detect Lies spell, and she had no evil intent. He looked up the old records and discovered that Lieutenant Strone had been stationed there some twenty years before, was something of a hero for his gallant actions in some skirmish against ogrekin, had visited an elven village to return a refugee…her story checked out. The Major knew Dan as a fellow officer, saw no reason not to give her the information she sought, and explained that while Major Strone was no longer there, and hadn't been for years, he'd write to headquarters--at her confused look he stifled a chuckle and amended that to the "centre of learning and command, where the great elders are, and where the records are kept"--and discover his current location. However, he warned, it could take a matter of weeks before he'd have an answer for her. He apologised for the delay; Aegliriell thanked him and said she would return, keeping to herself her amazement that mere weeks could ever be thought of as a long time.

While they waited Aegliriell and Zaine foraged throughout the area, and, about once a week, Zaine would hide while Aegliriell returned to the fort. She endeared herself to the healer, bringing in a bounty of medicinal plants and the fresh greens for spring tonics so beneficial to the soldiers after a winter of mostly meat and dried rations. In payment she accepted coin and the unfamiliar human food. In this too she had a purpose; Zaine baulked at the strange tastes and textures at first, but Aegliriell persisted and, with the adaptability of childhood, she soon grew accustomed. Also, for the first time in Zaine's life, Aegliriell spoke about her father. She said that he was very tall and very strong, but very kind and gentle, that Zaine had inherited his silky black hair and golden-brown skin…and that he didn't know she existed. Perhaps, she'd suggested calmly, someday Zaine might like to meet him, carefully kindling and feeding the flames of curiosity.

More quickly than the commander had expected, there came a reply; Dan Strone had been very easy to find. Unlike so many of their peers in this time of growing unrest, he was not on campaign, but had recently been made commander at Ardweald, a fort some hundred and fifty miles away, south and west of Eastfort, at the entrance to Storm Pass. Elgin grinned and wrote a letter of congratulation to his comrade on his promotion, and when Aegliriell returned the next time, was able to provide her with a detailed map. Aegliriell thanked him with impeccable elven courtesy, and a jug of rare fey wine, a commodity so scarce in human lands that he was stunned and could barely stammer his appreciation. Aegliriell just smiled, bade him fair winds, and took her leave.

The next day mother and daughter began their journey back to their village, arriving home at twilight. They spent the night in their own beds, warmed by a fire in their own hearth, and breakfasted on hot porridge and fruit cooked in the same pot Aegliriell's mother had used, but then Aegliriell packed up all their belongings and loaded them on a travois, scrubbed the empty cottage from top to bottom, placed sacred herbs of purification and protection in the niche where the household altar had always been…and silently closed the door. She took sprigs of the yew and lavender that sheltered and beautified the grave site where her parents and grandparents were buried, and carefully transplanted some of the snowdrops that bloomed there to take with her. Finally, she said goodbye to her two true friends, giving them those things too heavy to take with her--the exquisitely carved oaken bedstead where both Aegliriell and Zaine had been born, the well-made crocks and casks and boxes that kept food fresh through the long winters, the beautifully balanced potter's wheel Aegliriell's father had used…the ancient locust-wood cradle, rubbed smooth as silk and burnished with the patina of time, where Zaine and Aegliriell and Aegliriell's mother had slept as infants. The women embraced both Aegliriell and Zaine, but neither was surprised to see them go. Mother and daughter crept away so quietly that most of the villagers didn't even know they'd been there.

Packing and leave-taking had required the whole day; the sun had set and brilliant stars sequined the deep blue heavens by the time they were done. Aegliriell and Zaine were exhausted, but neither considered staying in the empty cottage until dawn. Instead they made camp just a mile or two outside the village that was no longer home, and continued their journey at dawn.

Zaine was beginning to feel like she'd been walking forever, with forever yet to go. A hundred and fifty miles from the village where she'd been born to the Borren outpost, a hundred and fifty miles back, a night and a day of traumatic upheaval--for no matter how cruel the elves outside the door, the cottage had always been a haven of peace, comfort, and love for the little girl, the familiar furnishings, each with a story, her dear friends--and then they were walking again, labouriously plodding, for as heavily burdened as Aegliriell was, she could neither make very good time nor carry her daughter when Zaine grew tired. Ten days had seen them to the outpost the first time, and then the pleasant respite, where they'd made a snug camp and foraged while the forest grew green and new around them, had refreshed them both. Ten days back, but with no rest at the end, and then they headed out immediately, heartsick and already weary. It was twenty days before they again reached the Borren border, with frequent stops needed both to let them rest and so that Aegliriell could gather whatever provender the wilds provided…she'd only been able to carry a few non-perishable staples, not enough to keep them fed.

Three days west of Eastfort the deep forest abruptly thinned, the primeval trees giving way to stands of young aspens, maples and birches, growing up amongst shrubs and ground plants so dense the way was almost impassable. Near the village the dense canopy of old growth blocked the sun from these enthusiastic youngsters, but here they gloried in the light and thrived. This was the first time Aegliriell had ever ventured outside the Oldenwood she knew so well, and she was frightened. It was harder than ever to drag the heavy travois, and despite the lush vegetation, the customary places where she knew to find food were absent. Still…there were rabbits in abundance, and the frequent streams, with their profusion of bulrushes, provided vegetables and bread. They made do, but their progress slowed even further, two days of walking followed by one of reprovisioning.

The young forests soon yielded to moors and meadows, with the woodlands becoming smaller and more widely separated until finally the wide expanses were broken only by scattered copses of trees mostly clustered by the streams. Another week or so brought Zaine and Aegliriell into lands cultivated in the human manner, laced by travelled roads interspersed with small villages every few miles. It became easier to pull the travois, but there was almost no wild food to be found in this new terrain…or at least none that Aegliriell recognised readily. The staples brought from the village were dwindling quickly, and even so, many nights they slept having eaten barely enough to still the rumbling in their bellies.

They wondered at the thick grasses where sheep and cattle grazed, at the farms with neat fields, edged by sturdy fences built from the rocks grubbed from the rich but stony soil, where the earth had been turned in even rows and plants were thriving. Acres of barley and oats, neeps and potatoes, cabbages and onions, still weeks from harvest, each crop in its own plot, separated from fruit trees in well-tended orchards; agricultural practices that were obviously effective but incomprehensibly different from the elven ways. Most alarming were the numbers of humans, working on the farms, peering from the houses and barns, travelling down the roads alongside them; the two elves were wary, but while almost all the faces were curious (per cause, for elves were seldom seen so far from the Oldenwood) only a few were also hostile or scornful, and some even offered friendly smiles and nods, or pleasant words of greeting.

One day they encountered a young man who did more. Zaine and Aegliriell were stopped by the side of the road, too footsore and weary to go on; Aegliriell was near despair and Zaine was whimpering from fatigue, hunger, and general misery. He was driving an empty wain, and had noticed and been puzzled by the tracks the travois had made. ("Sled marks? In midsummer?") That small puzzle was solved when he came up on them, but was replaced first by amazement at seeing an elven woman and child so far from home, and then by compassion for their distress. He'd pulled up and, very calmly so as not to alarm them, invited, "Gods ye good den. I see we travel the same road; may I offer ye to ride a while?" Seeing their confusion and hesitance, feeling their utter desolation, he jumped down from his perch and without further discussion or permission loaded the travois into the wagon bed, then with a wide, guileless grin he extended his hand to help them clamber aboard. "Sithee, 'tis nae pother at all."

Perhaps Aegliriell was simply too surprised to protest, perhaps she knew they were too exhausted to go on without help. Whatever the reason, she let the young man lift both of them into the unfamiliar conveyance. The strong, fit team, good road, and light load meant the mother and child covered more miles that afternoon than they'd been averaging in two days hard travel. Aegliriell and their benefactor had been chatting in congenial and unexceptionable fashion (the boy's name was Raibeart Ardghal, he was the eldest son of Fiachna and Deirbhile Ardghal, prosperous farmers, and he was on his way home after delivering their annual tithe of first fruits to the great abbey of Tollossus in Kirkwych) but her alarm returned redoubled when, without checking his pace, Raibeart turned off the road onto a narrow country lane. Aegliriell cried out in protest and he soothed her, "Nay, do not be afeared. My home is but a half mile hence, and I bring thee to my own mother. There thou will sup and rest unhindered."

He was as good as his word; in almost no time they pulled into a clean and spacious farmyard, one that brought Aegliriell heartsease, for beside the door to the house cinquefoil bloomed in untamed profusion, roses clambered over the walls, and familiar herbs both culinary and medicinal flourished in a knot garden of elegant symmetry yet natural aspect that pleased her elven aesthetics. Raibeart called out cheerfully as he drew rein, "Mam, Da, comeback am I in good time, mine errand fulfilled, with guests for the supper!" and over a half dozen people emerged: from the barn a man, still strong, erect, and broad-shouldered, who was the spit of what Raibeart would become in twenty or twenty five years' time, and two boys who could be none other than Raibeart's brothers, one younger but close to him in age, the other midway between babyhood and adolescence; from the house a woman, apron clad, drying her hands on a dish clout, and two girls, the elder, grown tall but not yet curved with budding womanhood, carried a laughing toddler, the younger would have been just Zaine's age, had both been human, or both half-elven. They all gawped to see the elves, and the parents looked at their son wonderingly. Raibeart explained with blunt compassion, "I came upon them alongside the road. They could go no further." By this time the adults had taken the measure of their guests, and nodded agreement with their son's assessment. Questions could come later; the mother approached Aegliriell with hands outstretched and said kindly, "Welcome to Acra Glas. Come rest thyself, and if thou wisheth, thou hast time to bathe and refresh ere we sup."

Aegliriell sat stricken, broken by mercy and generosity as scorn and hardship never had, tears streaming down her cheeks. Fiachna had to lift her from the wain; Raibeart did the same for Zaine, and whilst Deirbhile led and supported Aegliriell to the bath-house, the younger daughter of the house came up and took Zaine's hand, smiling with candid friendliness. "How now! I am hight Maura. Pray tell thy name." As Zaine stood there, shocked and frightened, flinching from the human's touch, another thought came to her. "Oh! Dost thou not know the common tongue? Raibeart, canst thou tell me the way to ask her name?" "I think 'tis 'mana essëlein', but I am not for certain. Elvish is a slippery tongue to master," Raibeart replied over his shoulder as he led the horses off to unhitch. Maura tried again, carefully parroting her brother's words and looking at Zaine hopefully, "Mana essëlein?" Zaine's confusion did not abate; she frowned, eyeing the girl cautiously through her veil of hair. "Zyainu. Nya esse' na' Zyainu," she stammered hesitantly. "Oh, that's pretty!" Maura exclaimed, and repeated the unfamiliar word, "Zyainu." Smiling happily at the first step toward communication, the unquenchably friendly and affectionate girl chattered on, using pantomime to lend clarity to her words, "Come, Zyainu, we can get washed up for the supper! Mam made chicken with new potatoes and carrots and there will be dumplings on top and berry pie for seconds! And after chores, if there be time afore bed, we can play. I will show you my poppet! Hast thou one?" Peeking out further from her hair, Zaine nodded, a slight shake of her head. "Pop-et? Uma inye' teiliataman…ah…pop-et." Then, as if on cue, Zaine's stomach gurgled noisily leaving her wide eyed and beet red in embarrassment.

The boy just older than Maura grinned at Zaine and pulled a handful of plums from his pocket. Passing them around to Zaine and his sister, keeping one for himself, he admonished in a whisper, finger to his lips, "Thou maun not tell Mam. She'll say 'tis over nigh the supper…but we hunger now, aye?"

"Oh, Cadfan, we should not!" Maura giggled, the plum juice running down her chin as she savoured the tasty morsel, sharing the clandestine moment with her innocent co-conspirators, and adding, "I thank thee!"

Zaine eyed the fruit for a brief moment before her hunger won out. She enthusiastically tore into the fruit. Smacking her lips from the ripe fruit's flavours, she managed a timid, albeit juice covered, smile, "Hantalë."

"Hantalë. Is that what thou callest them?" Maura asked, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "We call them 'plums'."

Becoming sombre Zaine shook her head left and right. "N'uma…no…Hantalë is not plum, it is thank you."

"Well, then, thou art welcome. That is manners for what to say back when a body gives thanks. But anyway, the plums are just coming on ripe," Cadfan informed them, grinning merrily. "There will be shortcakes on the morrow, wait and see if there are not!"

"Thou wilt have no supper do thou not get washed!" the next older boy scolded, coming up suddenly and swiping one of the plums, even as he joked with all three of them. Laughing, Maura and Cadfan took Zaine's hands, and they all ran off to the bath house.

There Zaine saw her mother sitting in a deep copper tub, leaning forward whilst Deirbhile poured a pitcher of hot water over her head, helping her rinse her hair. When the human woman saw the children she smiled, "Cadfan, thou maun clean thyself at the pump with thy da and brothers. Scrub well now, comb thy hair, and change thy shirt, to honour our guests. Shoo!" she ordered lovingly, and once the warm, damp, sweet-smelling room had been left to the womenfolk turned to Zaine and her daughter. "Maura, Zyainu, thou maun hop into the tub, soon as Aegliriell is done. The water will do for first sudsing, and then thou wilt rinse clean in fresh, aye." She gave both little girls a motherly smile. Maura was amazed but not displeased. "A bath all over, and 'tis not e'en Grimmssun?" she exclaimed. "Aye, and your blue dress and dimity apron on after, but make haste! Supper is on the hob," the woman chuckled.

What is your full name?

Where and when were you born?

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the people.

What is your occupation?

To which social class do you belong?

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

Are you right- or left-handed?

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

What do you have in your pockets?

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

How would you describe your childhood in general?

What is your earliest memory?

How much schooling have you had?

Did you enjoy school?

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

As a child, what were your favourite activities?

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

When and with whom was your first kiss?

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

Describe any influences in your past that led you to do the things you do today.

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

Who has had the most influence on you?

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

What is your greatest regret?

What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

When was the time you were the most frightened?

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

What is your best memory?

What is your worst memory?

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?

What is your greatest fear?

What are your religious views?

What is your political ideology?

What are your views on sex?

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?

What do you believe makes a successful life?

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e., do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?

Do you have any biases or prejudices?

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?

Who or what, if anything, would you die (or otherwise go to extremes) for?

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?

Who is the most important person in your life, and why?

Who is the person you respect the most, and why?

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.

What do you look for in a potential lover?

How close are you to your family?

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?

If you died or went missing, who would miss you?

Who is the person you despise the most, and why?

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?

Do you care what others think of you?

What is/are your favourite hobbies and pastimes?

What is your most treasured possession?

What is your favourite colour?

What is your favourite food?

What, if anything, do you like to read?

What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, social events, theatre, art, etc.)?

Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?

How do you spend a typical night without work the following day?

What makes you laugh?

What, if anything, shocks or offends you?

What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?

How do you deal with stress?

Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?

What are your pet peeves?

Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted?

What is your greatest strength as a person?

What is your greatest weakness?

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Are you generally introverted or extroverted?

Are you generally organized or messy?

Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.

Do you like yourself?

What are your reasons for being an adventurer (or doing the strange and heroic things that RPG characters do)? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…)

What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

If you could choose, how would you want to die?

If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.

What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?

What three words best describe your personality?

What three words would others probably use to describe you?