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Thalia, The Last.

For a game I've been playing in the Talislanta setting. It's The No Elves, Dwarves campaign setting/RPG game. (though there are lots of similar to those cliches. ) 

IT's a bit too D&D sometimes for me still, i've played a couple of characters, this being the current one, that I'm deciding while on my RPG hiatus, whether to keep playing her.

Here is a bit of background I wrote up for her. She is a Danuvian: which is very much an "Amazon" analog... matriarchal society of warrior women, The men are the artisans, bureaucrats, homemakers, entertainers, etc.


Thalia was a typical minor noble girl as a youth, she was a heroic warrior, and very decent Guard Tactician. She never took too many consorts but a great many foreign lovers, and eventually one main consort, a husband, however it’s termed, who was a famed poet/singer very modern, a bit edgy in his lyrics…. Thalia often very explicitly was his muse. The fame did not help their relationship, and her worship of his talent, in fact,  overwhelmed her good sense, and she went to jail for a crime he committed (in concert with her Thrall lover of the time, she found out at the trial) against the Queen, for ten  years. he still writes about her, in a much pulpier, creepy Bettie page exploitation kind of way)

She’s made a lot of bad decisions in her youth, has paid with the loss of of some senses and much of her beauty. She now however is strong on resolve and what she has come to find working as a mercenary outside Danuvia, to be “Real Comradeship”.

Excerpts from 

“The Journal Of Thalia The Last”

Entry 25
It seems that only the very beginning, less than a month into this journal I’ve been keeping in secret will become my secret prison diary. Though I do not regret my actions, and stand by my guilty plea, I am disheartened by the two men involved, both of whom I loved for more for their intellect, and talent, than any sort of “Manhood” they each may or may not possess. My consort the infamous Poet-Singer “Boynton the Bold," so nicknamed as his poem/songs often flirted with cultural taboos such as gender role reversal, foreign “love’, and whatever else almost crossed the line to sing about in public.

After our bonding, he almost always used me as his muse. This of course was my downfall, but I was far more enamoured of being a great poet’s muse, than of any of the real “consorting” he may have provided me with. He was and shall always be a mediocre chef, but a tidy housekeeper. As anyone familiar with modern Danuvian Lit can tell you Me and all my varied foreign lovers, from Thrall, to Manra shapechangers, to Marukian shit merchants, we are all household names. “Don’t be a Thalia” is common slang heard in Danuvia these days, meaning don’t take the fall for  two men (or any men, anywhere anytime), who betrayed you at the first sign of some gold lumens.

Entry 165
Prison 6th month anniversary.
Finally managed to scrounge some proper writing utensils, Now I may even be able to read what I write, If only I could afford more candles, I could get more writing done. Since I lost my eye in that last Prison Jousting tourney, I have had to take it easy. I think my hearing is going also, with my cell being next to the main sewage system for the entire city. It was like moving into a cave next to a waterfall at first, now six months later, it’s still just like that. Career threatening injuries aside, I find I’ve adjusted to the monotony of prison life pretty well. I have just found a source of books from this consort-prisoner, who is only known as “the Librarian”. He only has books to trade, but will take whatever you have in trade for his books.

This is how i’ve kept up on the 2 books now that Boynton has printed about my erotic adventures in prison, so far. I need to read up on the divorce law, and perhaps copyright. And “Erotic” really? His own advancing age has crippled his imagination, it’s sad that I can’t even love his mind anymore. The only adventures I’ve had here, have been decidedly un-erotic, losing an eye to a Thrall drunkard, and spending most of my day struggling to hear myself think. Nary a pillow fight to be had, I’m sorry to say. Though I do have a nice carved from stone dagger under my pillow in case of such an occurrence.

Entry 585

The final entry of my prison journal, is the first entry I’ve made in over a year, as in the last year, I had been too busy learning to speak (insert language) from The Librarian. I feel like a more well rounded, though slightly more decrepit version of my younger self. 10 years since I’ve seen the city, and today i’m only passing through as I’ve lost enough of my hearing and vision that the elite guard no longer wants me or my scandal plagued house anywhere near them. 

After consulting my legal counsel, I chose to exile myself from the city, and bring to an end the family line of which I am the last, as even if I ever have a child, it won’t grow up in Danuvia. I will spend the day closing out my accounts and removing myself from active Guard status. Then I will find some work in faraway lands in the way that any of my sisters make their way, as mercenaries. I look forward to embracing all the cultures, and seeing the real Talislanta. 


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