Rosa

[Name Banner Goes Here]

---

[Character Traits Go Here]

---

Not like it's rocket science
or even prickly pear marinade
You know what they say about life and lemons
Pour me some of that lemonade



As long as she’s been alive, Rosa has been a wanderer, roaming the far reaches of Sornieth under the light of its moons. Her face and scent are known to many clans, on many continents, though she never settles in any one place for more than a few nights. Those nights, however - those nights are spoken of long after she once again disappears down the dusty road, long evenings of music, dancing, and good cheer; her voice is fair, and the drums she plays echo between the trees and across the deserts and the ice.

Those drums, and possessions collected over a long lifetime, travel with her in a cart she draws herself, the closest thing to a home she has. Many a hot day she has spent sleeping under her cart, hiding from the hot sun, when friendly clans were too far to reach in a night’s travel - and many a dragon has been surprised when the abandoned cart they investigated had a dragon beneath.

Though the good-hearted inhabitants of Sornieth know her as a kindly bard, to the cruel and unkind she has another face. She is a fierce defender of those treated unjustly - the runt of the litter, the underpaid servant, outsiders and exiles. With them, her songs turn from campfire ditties and revel twirls to more seditious fair - songs of self-worth and uprising, revolution and rebelhood. She is no warrior, but her words stir warriors - call cowards to action, foment boldness in the hearts of the meek. She is as relentless as her message - turned away at the gate, she finds her way to the kitchens, the scullery, the stables,, and though she will be gone again by moonrise, all too often she leaves sedition in her wake.

Though Rosa is generally upbeat, with the hazy memory that defines most Tundras, there is occasionally something that will trigger her memories of home - never anything enough that she can recognize the trigger, but a flash of color or a burst of noise will draw something back from there. She does her best to avoid remembering - though she has forgotten whatever she left behind, all those years ago, she recalls that she never wants to return. Some days - very few, and rarer now - the wind will turn, and a breeze will catch up from the south, and she will remember in full… those days, she secludes herself, and flies high above the world alone until the feeling passes, speaking to no one. Soon, the memories fade, and she returns to land, cheerful as before - but she never speaks of those moments, no matter how much her worried friends ask her.



It's hard to kill a rosebush
Why would you wanna try?
We all share the water, the starry sky,
And the food supply








[Art Goes Here]

---

All art and sprites used belong to their respective owners.
Want to know who made something? Just ask.

---

Purchased from AardRinn #246256 for 1500
1 / 29 / 2020

---