[hider= Devrona Felgrim, Shield Mom]
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[b]Name:[/b] Devrona Felgrim

[color=ed1c24]"PEOPLE DEPEND ON YOU. DO YOUR F&%&ING JOB!"[/color]

[b]Alias(es):[/b] Tomato (for her near constant neon red glow), The "Beserker" Secretary, Office B@tch.

[b]Gender: Female[/b]

[b]Race: Orc[/b]


[b]Age: 35[/b]


[b]Rank: E(?)[/b]

[b]Personality:[/b] 

Most who come in brief contact with her would think she was a massive jerk, literally seething with rage, pushing her way past everyone where she walked, hoarse and loud in voice, rude, blunt, -nagging-.

Yet most veterans of the guild would counter that, despite her aweful mannerisms, she is in fact one of the kindest and most caring souls in the guild, literally braving rough terrain and battles personally to make sure an adventurers paperwork was done properly or spending sleepless nights rescuing them from legal pitfalls. Lately, she's outright joining the lower ranks on poorly prepared missions, assisting them in what way she can, out of her own pocket and without compensation.

In fact, Devrona was rarely genuinly angry, just incredibly stressed. Since a fatal accident in her childhood, she carried with her a deep anxiety that penetrated the core of her being day and night, a paranoid, guilt-ridden perfectionism that once paralysed her into melancholy, but now serves as a source of endurance and tenacity.

She has no times for politics, politeness, or bullshit. She has a job to do and -[i]it will get done[/i]-. She has a duty to these heroes, a duty she sees as borderline religious in fufilling.

Outside of work, which is rare considering her workaholism, she is reserved and stoic, affording herself few moments of relaxation, save some drinks to calm her nerves and her smoke pipe

[b]History:[/b] 

Born from a Pack of arcane scholars, Devrona had a natural, energetic curiosity that any practioner of magic should carry, but temper quickly. For undisciplined curiosity drowned the tiger cub, as the saying goes.

This desire, combined with an early need to excel, lead to an incident wherein, during her training years in adolescence, she snuck into her instructor's private library and copied down what she believed a wonderful spell, something she could use to show off her hard work and ability.

When the day came to present their progress in basic spells, she began the advanced spell, but mispronounced the letters, creating a horrible explosion that consummed her instructor and half her pack. She survived with horrible burns over her body, but recovered. Too shocked to explain what happened, the accident was accepted as a tragic misfortune and left at that. After all, magic was always dangerous business, Storm knew.

Still, the rest of her remaining pack shunned her, and she fell into a deep anxiety, too scared of even practicing, let alone casting, any magic or doing anything risky or responsible. She fell into a depression, lethargic and apathetic, just barely passing her required tests and failing her Rite of Passage, a pathetic dead-weight.

She was exiled and kicked out of her city, given basic clothing, some rations, and a sharp knife, with whispers to "Let Storm take her shame". Lacking the will to lay down and die or follow the advice, she wandered aimlessly on the open road, eventually running into a gang of brigands and taken prisoner with little resistance.

Some time after she was saved by a band of heroes. One of them, an old veteran, took the emotionless orc teenager under his care. He knew that look of deep self-loathing, that many a good person or survivor carried. He raised her and brought her out of her despair, taught her to carry her demons not as burdens, but as sources of willpower, as sources of energy to push her to redeem herself in her own eyes. 

Though still full of anxiety and fear of failure, she was no longer dead inside.

She became a faithful servant on his adventures, picking up utility magic and even mace and shield.

Later the veteran and his orc companion arrived in Swynport, joining the Iron Rose guild in its early years. Old and weary in his years, he fell into illness and infirmy after a nasty mission with a goblin infestation, yet had little coin to his name, much of it spent on maintenance and merriment in their travels. The payment for his last mission had been delayed due to missing paperwork, the leaderless guild a bureaucratic mess in it's initial years. He was going to die because of incompetence, she felt helpless, and furious.

Despite countless days and nights spent fighting the system and waiting in the guilds halls, the man died in bed before his treatment could be procured. 

During her struggle, she bore witness to the same tragedy befalling countless other adventurers, be it missing documents, mishandlings, bad intel, poor training, or countless other stupidities.

She could have gone on a rampage then in her grief, but for his memory she did better, and joined the administration branch of the guild, working tirelessly through sleepless nights to learn the legal technicalities needed to do her job and beyond. Reading, writing, mathematics, the arcane wording of ancient city customs, ect. Never would she allow another adventurer to fall to misfortune out of someone's incompetence.

The people working in the guilds E-ranks hated her, for she often not only worked overtime without pay in her own profession, rising through the ranks to become borderline senior leader without the pay, rank, or political responsibility, taking the bottom work into her own hands too often, but, everytime she would encounter a hurdle due to anyone not meeting her high standards, she would personally learn their job and do it for them, then report them to their superiors. 

The leadership loved her, and adventurers even more, for she saw each one, from the lowest D-ranks to the highest, as a reflection of her friend, and went out of her way to make sure they were prepared and taken care of for what missions lay ahead, even if she was absurdly bothersome about it. She even outright paid for the medical costs and maintenance of some unlucky adventurers, for her boundless workaholism afforded her little time for luxury and she had saved a fortune, and gave it freely.

Lately, she's taken to volunteering on dangerous or poorly prepared missions given to the lower ranks, picking up her old mace and shield. While normally this would be forbidden and grounds to be fired, E-ranks taking on missions being seen as a form of corruption due to their internal access, this was overlooked due to pretty much everyone desiring her to get the hell out of the office.

[b]Magic:[/b]

[b]Buffs:[/b] Throughout her early years as an assistant to a grizzled old veteran, she picked up and improved on her novice skills in the arcane, learning a variety of utility spells that boosted some aspect of the receipient or provided a boon, such as hardened skin, nightvision, resistance to the elements, increased speed, and so on.

She even picked up a method of transmitting a weaker version of the spell around her, aura spells.

[b]Conjuration:[/b] Devrona has picked up some minor ability in conjuration, able to summon food and letters from her personal storage across moderate distances, and vice versa.

[b]Healing:[/b] What utility mage would go into battle without a basic catalogue of healing, curing, and resistance spells?

Though she's not as natural as a priest, only able to heal minor wounds, she has specialized in curing ailments that commonly befall adventurers in combat or travel.


[b]Skills:[/b]

Mace and Board: She has moderate ability in wielding a heavy metal stone on a stick and taking some knockback while blocking.

First aid: You quickly learn to sew and stitch after some years on the road.

Legal knowledge: After years of struggling with bureaucracy, Devrona has an indepth knowledge of legal custom throughout Rhode, including the most obscure laws, handy for finding a loophole for an adventurer stuck in the court over property damage or some nonsense.

[b]Equipment:[/b] A common suit of iron armor, an iron mace and shield. Oiling and repair kits.

First aid kits.

Scrolls for spell assistance.

Rations.

Maps.

Enchanted documents on legality, lore, history, monster knowledge, medical knowledge, ect, that compress the information to a few pages, the words needed summoned to the page at will.

Climbing gear. You -always- need it.

A set of plain wear and necessities (pants, shirt, hygenics, ect)

[b]Extra:[/b] She has a weak spot for lemon-cakes.

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