Talea's Story

Do y'ever just… do something in life, and it goes pretty well, so you stick around? And it never stops going well, so you never stop being around. You grow into it. It's comfortable. Then you blink and you're twenty-five years old, fluent in five languages including Infernal and Undercommon, decent shapeshifter, crack markswoman, and you've spent your entire adult life on the same island, behind the same desk, copying maps and squinting at an old man's frankly ridiculous handwriting? Okay, that got... specific.
Basically, here's how it happened. I'm fourteen or so when I realize I'm trans. My parents are great, of course, immediately-- except for one thing. They won't let me go to the city to magically transition yet. You're too young, it's too dangerous, it costs too much money. See, neither of them have ever left the island, or anyone else in my family. Dad's the human, mum's the elf—carpenter and a druid, respectively. Him I kind of get—not much reason for a craftsman to go on some big adventure. But mum... she's three hundred years old and she's never left Machmorraig. I can't imagine it. Three hundred fucking years in the same woods! She says everything she needs is where she needs it, that the land provides, that she's tied to it and we are too. She's… strong-willed. So none of us ever left—my younger brothers and sisters are still here too. Still there, I mean. That's still hard getting used to.
Okay. Fiend's Bane. Sorry, I've been a little distractible out here—it's just so different. It feels right, though, like I've dreamt about it. It's hard to explain. Anyway, my siblings and I pretty much split our time between Mum's druid circle and Dad's woodshop. I got to know Ulrich through the druids. We kind of understood each other… spiritually, but also literally. He was absolutely delighted that someone could finally read his handwriting. We took to wandering around in the woods, every so often. As bears, as squirrels, as people. We were people if we wanted to talk about something—that's easier.
I told him about my parents' not letting me off the island. Told him I was frustrated and scared and—a lot of feelings, really. That happens when you're fourteen and kind of… going through it, generally. Suddenly—Ulrich stops, snaps his fingers, and stands there, completely still, for a slightly concerning amount of time. Then he told me about Faedor. She was the Guild's best wizard, and she'd learned transition magic to help out one of the other Guild kids, or was nearly done learning it. The Guild was badly in need of some basic office clerk work, transcribing records and all that. They would pay for my transition—I wouldn't have to leave the island—in exchange for a few months as an apprentice. It was the perfect solution.
I did what they needed, and… turns out I'm really fucking good at it. So they started paying me a salary and kept me on ever since. And smite me, they really did need it. When they built the Guildhall, Fiend's Bane was about four or five different adventuring parties. People died, people left, there was a massive fight about Zoë—well, existing. It's these slivers of parties that used to be great, all trying to figure out how to go on with pieces missing, seeing if they can fill in the gaps together. But I learned more from them than I could've in the island's half-assed excuse for a schoolhouse, and I saved up a lot for me and my family too. Someday, they always said, someday we'll add new blood. But of course, they said, how could they risk me going on adventures? I was too valuable at home. So… well, so I stayed.
To be perfectly frank, I don't know any of you people. I know you're impulsive, and I know you're powerful, and besides a few biographical points of interest, such as partial sexual history with dangerous archdevils, that's about it. But I came ready for… well, for whatever this is going to be. I'm armed, I'm packed, I've got the relevant Guild documents and everything from my savings that I didn't have to leave behind for my family. I don't know why I felt so strongly that I'd be leaving that night, but I felt it, somewhere at the core of my soul. It's… hard to explain. But I don't regret this.

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Told by Talea Woods to Blanche de la Force, Loge Haderaa, Nekrotzar , and Tchelio during a voyage on the Messy Bench to Cape Hildegard, mid-November Y1110.