I'm in the beginning throes of a new D&D campaign that my friend Ben is going to be running, and excitingly that means I get to churn out a new character for me to play around with! This is my third campaign (and therefore my third character) and although my first character, Gershwin, has a special place in my tea-loving heart, this new character might be my favorite one yet. she's a little different than the usual archetypes I go for when creating characters - not just in D&D, but in my novels too. I suppose there are certain similarities with her and my other female characters, but overall she strays pretty far from my comfort zone. I've left a lot of her character traits open beyond the basic stats and ideals, so she has room for growth and change. All in all, I'm pretty excited to explore her.
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Laguna Seylor is lost. Alone. Hard, dry land is beneath her feet, and she stumbles. Her legs feel unsteady on the un-moving Earth beneath her. There should be water beneath her feet. Salt on her face.
Laguna doesn't know how she got so far in-land, but she keeps walking. It's been a long time since she's walked so far. Her elven balance is betraying her, making her unsteady. She doesn't usually stumble this way.
Laguna knows she won't see her family again. Hot tears no longer touch her face, but their memory is still on her ghostly skin. Haunting her. The storm haunts her.
Laguna has always loved storms. Rain pouring, thunder rolling. The sky is angry, she thinks. The sky is screaming. The sky needs to let out her pain, just like the sea. Just like her. Laguna has always reveled in the storms, has bathed in them.
Laguna respects the storm, for the storm took her people. The Daedalus lies in the deep now, untouchable. Unforgettable. The crew was her people, but the crew is gone. She is alone now, with no crew and no ship. She has no Captain, and therefore she has no purpose.
Laguna is armed, and she is deadly. Her scimitar is sharp, her mind sharper. She does not hesitate with strangers. These days, everybody is a stranger. The only liquid she walks upon now is blood. A fighter fights, she knows, and she will die fighting. At least she still has her pride.
Laguna is named for the water. She was found in the lagoon, alone and lost. Captain Caldwell took her in, taught her the sea. The sea taught her a lesson she will never forget. Laguna is lost and alone once more. She laughs, understanding the irony. The sea is cruel, but she is consistent. Laguna cannot fight the sea, no matter her skill. Her scimitar slices through the sea, yet it is never sharp enough.
Laguna walks, because the Daedalus is behind her. The sea is behind her, for now, with the fear of the unknown stretching out ahead. Not only has Laguna never been on land before, she has never been this alone. Laguna has never heard her own thoughts with such clarity before. Has never had so many unanswered questions. Has never been so hungry. So land-sick. So tired.
Laguna doesn't remember the scent of the sea anymore. Her elven nose is exceptional, yet her memory is fading. Perhaps she is forcing it to fade, she isn't quite sure. Laguna hasn't forgotten anything, wasn't sure she could forget until now.
Laguna notices a town up ahead, and she hesitates. Her scimitar rests comfortably at the small of her back, yet she is nervous, People are ahead. Land people. She may be an elf, but her way is by the sea. Land people unnerve her, confuse her. Laguna doesn't know their customs, doesn't want to know them. The Daedalus was her way.
Laguna looks down, sees soft dirt beneath her boots. She expects the sight of wood, and is somewhat startled at the unfamiliar sight of the earth beneath her. It's been weeks, but she is still unaccustomed. She fears she might never adapt to land, but she cannot go back to the sea. The Daedalus isn't waiting for her at port. Only ghosts wait for her there.
Laguna continues forward, heart pounding in her chest. She is a fighter by profession, a sailor by spirit. She will fight all she encounters, and she will defeat those who oppose her. Laguna knows there will be people up ahead; strangers and enemies and those who wish her harm. Raised voices can be heard she nears the town's tavern, the sounds of a brawl. The Daedalus were strangers once, unfamiliar faces on an unfamiliar ship. Her heart pounds with the memory of their faces, the memory of her face being the only to resurface after the storm.
Laguna holds onto that memory, holds onto the feeling of remembering her family, her home, her crew. She grips it fiercely in her mind, relishing in the sight of their faces in her mind's eye. The sea chose her to resurface, and she will honor that choice.
Laguna nears the tavern, the sound of a fight unmistakable now. The scent of blood and violence is in the air, making her hand twitch toward her blade. Being armed will make her a target, despite being a woman. They will fight her once they see her blade.
Laguna smiles, her hand gripping the handle of her scimitar. She feels revitalized, comforted by the memory of her crew. They are with her, although they are gone. The sea has not left her - she merely distanced, forever unstoppable.
Laguna Seylor is a fighter, and she will never forget again.