Mara's Memory Loss Emergency Handbook | Tale of Banners Roleplaying Community Forum

Mara's Memory Loss Emergency Handbook


Jun 9, 2020
Canada, Quebec
Mara-Lee does not know how to write or read. This book is purely fictional and meant as a character profile.

Has this book been left behind by an amnesiac lady? If so, please return it to her. She wrote it herself.
If this is an amnesiac lady, bad news. Tsarra chose to do it and this book will teach you about who you were... If that's even a good thing. Learn from our mistakes, yes?

Here's our one rule, however.
No matter the situation. No matter the odds. Survival is paramount. Princes may be crocodiles but we, Mara of a future to come, are a cockroach. We prepare for the evitable, cover every single exit and dig new ones if needs be. Honor, riches, love, nothing matters to the dead.

Here's the info, neatly categorized by Flor. Starting with the basic stuff

Name : Mara-Lee Chabot, but not chabot anymore. Naiman now. But still Chabot? It's complex. (Sha-bott)
Date of Birth : Start of winter. Born fat too. Mam kept saying that's why you pulled through.
Place of Birth: A shack in the Crookmire.
Gender: Female, but you knew that.
Origin: Drahl. The free people of the world. You're technically a crooklady, since you're from the crookmire, but people never ask that.
Status: Skev. Peasant of the bog. Live off the earth, away from nobles. By Tsarra did this change quick and drastically. You're a Grand-Princess now. Boss bitch. Good job!
Language: Tehn is your main language. You've been speaking a whole lot of common though. You cannot pronounce K's or G's even if your life depended on it.
Family: Your sister, Flo, was taken by the people of the monastery. She was sick. That sickness killed your mother, Laora-Lee. Your brother, Vaughn and your father, Gilbert, have gone missing from a raid. You know the raid. If not, that's even better.

Here's how you should look like.

Height: You're a pretty standard Drahl, which means shorter than everyone.
Weight: You're lean and strong! You can run all day thanks to your short size and that, but don't expect to be able to wrestle a krelkar anyday soon.
Hair: Should be black. Like all Drahl. Maybe brown from the mud.
Eyes: Blue. Like the water, apparently. But water's green? Mam was weird.
Limb Dexterity: Wrote this here in case you wanted to try bending around. Do. We're agile alright.
Detailed Physical Description: Your skin's pale because you've never had the sun on it for more than a few moments, same as your ancestors. You're not the prettiest. Sorry. Intimidation will do you better than seduction. I keep warpaint on my face at all time to hide a scar. We pretty much abandoned femininity the day we took the bow.
Typical Clothing/Equipment: Practical, practical practical. High leather boots, for swamp walking and faster drying if you get stuck. Yellow, brown and green outfits to blend in better. Belts, coats. It's all made of padded linen to dry faster.

Here's how to pretend being you so that people stop asking questions.

Personality/Attitude: You're brash and direct. Take what you earned and don't share. You point out flaws in other people with no regards for their feelings. Someone's gotta tell them. You like living quick and in the moment. Being on the road, finding new places, meeting new people. You're the proudest Drahl this world has put on its lands. Boast of your ways and your family. You're bound to outlive everyone, so let them understand how you're doing it. You also do drugs. Like every Drahl. Don't listen to the Oserians, it's good stuff.

You've somehow developped a penchant for welcoming people. Nobility does that, I suppose?

Skills/Talents: You know herbs from years keeping your mother living. Then your sister. Really, you could write a very short book on plants. You're okay with the sword. You have fun swinging axes at people but what you excel at is archery. You track, hunt, herd, gather and disappear better than anyone. You're trying brewing. You've poisoned yourself twice yet, with more in sight. Not too scared about that. (Honey cures it. Yes, just honey)

Favourites/Likes: You like wet foods and meats. Matter of fact, there's not really anything you won't eat. Mushrooms are usually favorites of ours. Fishes are great. Toads are truly the best, but scarce in our current environment. Food aside, you enjoy drinking broth, juices and clearwater. Alcohol is fine, but it's the aftereffect you like, not the taste. You enjoy music played on a banjo and sung. You like rainy days under the canopy. You enjoy napping in your storage room after counting your barrels.

Most Hated/Dislikes: You dislike selfless people. Other Nobles. Arrogant folks who can't prove their worth. You don't like milk because it feels weird. You don't like oxen and the many scars they left on your body. Not an admirer of performers. You hate Oserians amd they hate you too. Oh, and, you hate with a passion the Oserian religion. Some people are fine though. So long as they don't push their beliefs in conversations.

Goals/Ambitions: Objective: Survive. There's also keeping this whole nation-boat afloat. I've got a feeling you'll go real far with all that.

Strengths: Brutal honesty, broad life experience, down-to-earth attitude, agility and endurance.

Weaknesses: Booksmarts, socially naive, strength relative to a Krelkan crusher is also inferior. Keep at it and one day, we'll have similar bods.

Fears: You absolutely, to the very core of your being, hate spiders. Fight or flight is immediate. Northern spiders are just chihuahuas though, so don't be afraid. You're scared you're going to end up alone. You're scared you're not worth your own weight or that you'll flake when the balance depends on it. You're scared of getting attached to something because that would mean abandoning everything you've worked so hard to accomplish.

Philosophy of Life: You are the world's most important thing. Everything you should do should be about yourself. Your selfishness is your true strength.

Attitude Toward Death: Avoid it yourself and dispense it when necessary.

Sexual Orientation: Gender means nothing to you. You enjoy people whose strengths complement or rival your own. You also enjoy things that stand out.

This should have pointed you in the right direction. Now, the people are you are going to expect you to recognize them. Here's a chart of everyone you care enough to remember. Color-coded because flora wanted to try her colored wax-sticks.


You've been to bogs and high-waters with him. He'll follow you from home to bandits and to the tavern after. He's the nicest noble you know and was cast down by others of his kin. To put him in a place of power is to further your own survival. His vices could be exploited and that gaping hole in his mind is where you should put your shield at.
Michael partook in San'Shroom and appreciated the experience. I feel a stronger kinship with him now that he's acknowledged my god. I know he's not a religious man, but a part of me wishes for him to start relying on the wisdom of my goddess.
He's gone missing. I kinda miss the man. Maybe I couldn't be what he wanted me to be. Sort of feeling guilty for leading him on like that.

Selfless. Chained to his brother's ideals. A loudmouth who doesn't accomplish much. Spoke of starting his own thing in the past and never dared moving the project forward once his brother barked at him. Sympathetic but apathetic. Claims he's a survivor but he's not. Plays with the heart of Geneviève and his own in a very dangerous gamble. Recently got stabbed for the failing endeavor of his brother. Serves him right. Sure hope that was the tipping point. A selfish Jasper would be an outstanding ally. Keeps claiming there's evil inside of him, moreso than anyone else. Whatever.
Your defeat, and then attempt of murder at Rudolf was pathetic. You reacted to it as a combat with no awareness to the life lessons punching you in the face. Your pride and ego suddenly came rushing to shield you from the truths Rudolf dispensed violently at you. You targeted the man's weak point; good on you, but attempting to skewer him was a coward's move. It was to admit that Rudolf was the better man and that you could only resort to your base instinct. You keep sinking lower. Take your life in your hands. Reach for that apple that should be yours. Become strong. Strength is forged, not found.
He's found something close to what I could call stability. A rock. His wife. She's a Drahl too, which eases me in. Perhaps he's trying to still himself and to pull out his lifeship from the rocking waters of his brother. Unchanging opinions will do him great to earn my trust. He's on a path to recovery.

You're a quiet, violent man who plays his brother like a banjo. You crave power but thrash around because you can't figure it out. Even I would make a better Jarl than you. You're a danger to everyone, seeking power for the sake of power with no real thoughts on what the people truly need. You consort with Oserian mercenaries in private, let a man wound you and your puppet in your own house. Someone has to stop you and it won't be me.
You brought upon my people the menace of war. Be careful in alleys. Who knows what sort of sharp objects could fall from windowsils?
Tsarra won't save you.

This is a complicated person with whom we have complicated feelings. Her mind's been warped by Oserian religion magics. She's a prisoner shaking her bars and trying to get out. She was raised to value others before her, I think. Not anyone, though, no. Specific people. Everything she does is for these distant nobles we know nothing about. But now that we're stranded up north, her prison cracked. She's resourceful, selfish and much smarter than I'll ever be. Her green eyes transformed my last meal in moths in my stomach the first time I met her. But there's something. Being next to her is like sitting on a small island surrounded by alligators. The water is perfectly still, everything smells of danger. You dare not move a muscle. Rest assured that the crocodiles won't bite for now. Unless they stand to gain something from doing so. I should avoid disclosing her my involvement in any of my side projects. But who knows? If she breaks out of her own prison...
She sees Tsarra! She acknowledges the all-wise one! Perhaps there is hope of a redemption. Perhaps she's just being friendly with the locals. Tsarra's wisdom pierces the mask of the soul. I believe that, in time and through repeated effort, Genevieve may finally break her shackles.
She left.

I should spend more time getting to know you. I'm scared not to be up to the standard of another Drahl. Regardless, I view you as a true ally and someone I'd be glad to share a bayou with. You possess many adaptable skills and knowledge, you can hunt and fight. I admire the proximity you have with other people, but ultimately wonder if you'll succumb to the appeal of these city folks. Rumors are you may be a noble. I'm not sure I'd appreciate you just as much in a position of leadership. You're sometimes a bit too silent. Or maybe my mouth's loud enough for two Drahli.

I'm glad we had a moment to speak with each others. You're quite skilled at medicine, even taught me tricks with tobacco that I had no clue about. Your knowledge of southern herbs surpasses mine. You're strong willed, know how to handle a blade and revel in the wisdom of Tsarra. Your presence improves my survival rate and I will protect it.
You made me abandon my family to announce me you'd leave too. I trust him, but by Tsarra do I feel alone now. Find your damn people. Your failure wouild only infuriate me further.

An old man I know next to nothing about. He complains about noise and shows up with weapons. I think there's a lot more than meets the eye when it comes to this old warrior. A part of me wishes to seek and learn his wisdom to make it my own. Another part remembers well that these Northmen raid Elshwine like it's their personal granary. I'll stay away for now but, who knows? Maybe I'll find him in a good mood one day. Oh, being an old man and all, he's a good gossip source, I'm sure.
You've had one of my drinks and your cold exterior shattered like an overdistilled bottle of Kova. You're like me and you enjoy people who take their place in the world. Though quite flattering with your admiration of my brewing recipes, you earned my respect by slapping the five northern gods and their asses right into Jasper's face. His pride may have looked away from the lesson, sure, but you acted a true tribesman to an otherwise problematic youth. Jasper won't take to the lesson, but you've proven your determination and northmanship by doing this. I respect your ways. I think you an inconic Beardsman.
A fun drunk man I should perhaps try to see a little more often.

A wise man from a different tribe than I. He is wise and well versed in the way of the herbs. He, like me and many others, enjoys the sound of his own voice. We may not agree on certain aspects of our worship, but we both are mature enough to accept our differences and respect them. He begged me for money though... And that worries me terribly. A hand that cannot sustain itself is a hand that has to be held... By Ziad. I hope they manage to get a leg on this whole sufficiency problem. I cannot allow myself to be weighted down by an incapable tribe.
You up and vanished the moment we finished moving your sheeps. Don't worry, they'll be taken care of... Wherever you are.

I had doubts about you when I first met you. You looked warmongering but unusually polite. how glad am I that I gave you your chance. You've proven a wise advisor, a capable man and a trusted friend. Your loyalty to me, I find is undeserved as of now. I feel comforted nonetheless that I've somehow earned it. You're my right hand man and, surprisingly, the less aggressive of us both. When we're not growling at senile old generals, that is. We'll grow old and respected together, good friend. Thank you for watching my back. I'll do the same.

You and I may not share the kinship your cousin and I do, but I still greatly respect you. I'm sorry I had to bring in so many blacksmiths into town for I full on wish your family would have prospered under your craftsmanship. You're a frighteningly red-headed man whose entire family must have eaten nothing but bone marrow and muscle broth. Thank you for trusting me through all this. You are a valuable friend.

You want something more from me. Something a surprising amount of people have done before you and something that I cannot offer. I can't deny that I fancy you, but I can't abandon myself to these kinds of feeling. Not with you, not with anyone. Your path is a complicated one to walk and I'll help you as far as I can go without putting my entire life's work into jeopardy.

I decided to give you the inn I had built out of pure love. The first building up in Skyreach. The foundation of the city. My personal little haven of peace. Little did you know, I built it with the intention of running it before politics slapped me in the face. So you can now understand how absolutely horrified I was when you changed the whole room, tore down walls I made and unsecured the pass I built. I still think it looks absolutely horrible. But whatever. It's not my inn anymore, you're paying good coins for it and I'll let it pass. You're a competent and strong woman who's a little on the lazy side. I don't mind that. But I do mind that you're always out of drinks. A part of me wants to participate in this whole flirting thing you got. But I ain't a relationship person and I'll end up flaying you mentally.

//Not in this but wanna be? Just ask me! I'm lazy but serviable!//
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Jun 24, 2020
Farewell, Faeborn! You were a great leader of Averlash and an even better RPer. I'm not sure what will happen to your character, however...