Syf Kha
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Error creating thumbnail: File missing Syf Kha
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Error creating thumbnail: File missing '"What makes a tribe strong?" | |
| Gender | Female |
| Race | Au Ra |
| Clan | Xaela |
| Citizenship | Gridania |
| Age | 16 |
| Occupation | Adventurer |
| Place of Birth | Steppes of Othard |
| Place of Residence | None |
| Guardian | Dusk Mother |
| Nameday | 26th Sun of the 3rd Astral Moon |
The seventh winter of Syf's life is passing, the end of peace and a stationary life for her and her tribe. A small valley nestled in the mountains of northern Othard is a paradise in the cold months. The heat beneath the land keeps the waters flowing, the cold at bay, and gives the small tribe a chance to collect and craft their knowledge to prepare for the coming year. The comfortable valley will soon become toxic waste of heat, killing most of the grass and pushing away the wildlife to search for the greening pastures of the spring. The Lost Kha adapted to life in a smaller tribe, and found the respite welcome in a season of short sunlight and in a land full of danger.
The few yurts in the valley were being prepared for their departure, people among the tribe preparing their horses and grazing animals for travel, stocking everything that they needed onto their beasts of burden. Heading the transition is the Matron of the tribe, Syf's mother, a middle-aged Xaela with a stern and commanding presence, organizing and making sure nothing would be left behind that is important. Everybody is busy, but there are a few heads that are missing.
A young girl gently rocks from side to side as she holds onto her small fishing stick, watching the line with unbroken attention. Syf bounces along, the dark skinned Xaela beams a smile, her excitement cannot be contained for the promise of new adventures ahead. Next to her is a tall Xaelan man, Syf's father, sitting still and upright with stoic posture. He is far off in thought, staring at the other bank of the lake without motion. The two have been like this for the entirety of sunlight, only changing when interrupted by the promise of a fish. Wordless exchanges passed through the silence of the day, far enough from the bustling business of the tribe not to be bothered. The sun was slowly falling behind the peaks that edged the valley, kissing the mountaintops with the blaze of light. The father broke his distant stare to look up at the sky.
"Little one, what makes a tribe strong?" The father asks.
She replies without thinking much on it. "I make it strong!"
The father chuckles, shakes his head, "No, this was an important question little one. I will ask it again later." The two continue until complete darkness, and head back to join the others.
A year passes, and again the two are on the bank of the river. "Little one, what makes a tribe strong?" The father asks.
She replies with rousing cheer, having thought about it before. "Dah, you make it strong!"
The father beams a smile, but still shakes his head. "I see that you still do not have an answer I am satisfied with. I will ask you again later."
Another year passes, and the two stand in the middle of a river with spears, catching more to eat. The father signals to Syf to pause.
"Little one, what makes a tribe strong?" The father asks.
She replies, having prepared for the question with a lot of thought. "The things we learn from other tribes and villages, the people we meet and the lessons of the land."
The father furrows his brow, but still shakes his head. "I am impressed with your answer, but I do not think you know what makes a tribe strong yet. I will ask you again later." The two collect themselves, and join their tribe. It is the last time Syf's father asks the question.
Seven years pass, and Syf steps foot off of a ship onto a dock of a cold and unwelcoming land. She looks over to the endless horizon of the ocean, and asks herself. "Syf, what makes a tribe strong?" She mulls over this for several minutes, looking to others as they pass by on the busy port. She answers herself and smiles, "I do not know." She turns and follows the current of the crowd, still thinking over what will finally give her the answer her father is looking for.
Demeanor: This smiling Au Ra is constantly antsy, walking, pacing, or shuffling about in her spot. She's constantly throwing herself into conversations, trying to learn more about people. She likes to prank people, or steer conversations towards the uncomfortable to see what happens. Will try to avoid engagements that are too hostile. Has a very active imagination, goes into daydreams often.
Nature: Laws and customs are there for a reason, but are not set in stone for her. She tries to uphold traditions from the Steppes, and often sees the customs of the land prohibitive.
Religion: Believes in the Au Ra pair of deities, believing she's been blessed wholly by the Dusk Mother with dark skin and scales.
Habits: Syf has a nervous tick, causing her to rub her stomach. She hums often, unaware of how she brings it into speech. Syf trains daily, and tries to keep herself from getting too soft and civilized.
Common Appearance: This smiling Au Ra is constantly antsy, walking, pacing, or shuffling about in her spot. Her hair is dirty and combed only by her fingers, pulled back into ponytails to keep her vision unobstructed. Her visible skin is pocked with small scars, the result of shrapnel cutting along the curvature of her face. Syf is often seen disheveled and clanking about in her often dirty armor, dye sheared off at places where she was hit. She is often covered in dust, gloves and feet muddy, with traces of caked animal blood clinging to pockets and grooves of the armor's decor.. Her armory consists of a long greatsword, hidden behind a collection of furs bound with leather scraps, and whatever sword and/or shield she could find during her travels. She lives in the armor, rarely taking it off. Thankfully the stench of her sweat is mostly sealed away by the leathers. Syf is quite short for an Au Ra, and she has stopped growing, much to her frustration. The rigor of daily survival brought muscle under a healthy layer of fat.
Scars & Markings: Underneath her shell is a collection of more scars, a claw strike across her collarbone, and her shoulders gripped by some larger beast. Across her back is a crosshatch of scars, thin rips healed unevenly.
Voice: A heavy Steppes accent lines her Eorzean, often pocked with incorrect pronunciations of words. She punctuates her sentences with a modifier of negative or positive connotations, carrying it over from her previous spoken language.
Clothing: Pink armor is her usual wear, finding it in the Shroud in poor condition. She has had it since then repaired and dyed to a brighter pink, appreciating the attention it brings. She's also fond of what Eorzeans think pink symbolizes, and carries it proudly. Her other wear is a Yukata style dress, for more formal public occasions.
- Fish and Fishing
- Horses and Horsebirds
- Large open spaces
- Meat
- Lighter teas
- Stargazing
- Garleans
- Physical contact
- Ishgardians
- Bathing
- Unhealthy animals
- Her Chocobo
- Dah's Sword
- Dancing
A sword dancer by her own name, her strongest fighting style is when she is either rooted in place, or very close to her opponent. When using sword and shield, she often discards her shield and prefers using her sword as an eviscerating tool, spinning about close to an opponent. Her larger greatsword employs a different tactic, dispersing aether as she performs a kata in a very strong defensive technique.
Her strongest suit is outdoor survival. The rigid Steppes along with great tutoring has given her the tools to live off of the land, and endure long bouts of hunger or thirst. She trained her chocobo fairly well, and has decent aim on chocobo back.
Poor agility on foot, poor physical defense, poor knowledge of most fighting techniques and magicks beyond Dragoons and magitek. Often stumbling about while trying to dodge or fight something she doesn't know. While her defensive magic is strong, she will lose her concentration if her dance or stance goes awry, often dispelling any accumulated aether.
She's awful at picking up social and context clues, often getting her into trouble. Her use of Eorzean is getting stronger, but she uses context in a sentence to try and figure out larger or new words. She is learning how to read, having gotten a book that illustrates characters closer to her origin language. Her chocobo is still not trained for proper battle.
Her knowledge of crafting is limited to what she remembers of Steppe culture, not knowing exactly what's similar can produce ill effects. Her skill in fishing is limited to bobber and weighted lines, limiting her options for travel as she cannot fish from certain locations.
Mah and Dah Khagon ( ♥ ♥ ✖ ) - Parents
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Relationship: Mah and Dah, referred to affectionately by Syf, were the two leaders of the Khagon tribe. Dah was a reserved man, often sitting in silence and thinking. When he spoke, each word counted. To Syf, Dah was a figure of reverence, often trailing and watching her father with bright eyes. She would go on fishing trips with the father, working together in silence for hours. Dah was one of the teachers for swordplay in the tribe, teaching Syf along with other students.
Mah was the matron of the tribe, teaching Syf how to train horses and to shoot a bow. The two had a distant relationship, performing roles as they were tasked to each other.
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Ohki Leyga ( ● ) - Caretaker
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Relationship: Ohki is a matronly figure to Syf, offering up home and some lessons in reading just for the company of the girl. She often talks of her adopted Raen daughter and wife, Glaz. Syf still uses the room offered on her journeys to the Shroud, storing her wealth in the assumed safe place.
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Common Rumors
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Rare Rumors
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PC Rumors
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Carl carries on him two bundles, one side with weapons, the other with her personal affects. He's well feed and keeps himself clean, always seems to be peppy and energetic.
- Personal affects
- Wrapped greatsword.
- One book titled 'The Happy Chocobo.' Well worn, children's title.
- One book titled 'Eorzean Language.' Written in Doman, a learning tool for Syf to grasp the alphabet of Eorzea.
- Small vial of scale moisturizer, made of snake oil and sand.
- Short shorts.
- Bikini two-piece and a swimdress.
- A set of window curtains, makeshifted into a skirt.
- Flint and tinder.
- Small mirror.
- Fishing rod and tiny tackle box. Dry bait.
- Skinning knives. Extra sharp.
- One pebble bracelets.
- Chalk and charcoal, kept wrapped with paper.
- Sword and shield of the day.
- Broken elm shortbow, fifteen arrows and quiver for the hip.
- Yukata Dress, bound in leathers.
- Aether charged plate, chain mail, and simple wearing leathers.
- Earring - Magitek in design, allows Syf to calibrate the sensitivity of her horns. Given by Haru.
