A common weed in a heirloom garden, Tarot is nothing out of the ordinary if one were to overlook his hybridized heritage. The quintessential coywolf—he embodies the best and worst of both worlds looking the part of a coyote at the stature of a small, scrawny wolf. Delicately cloaked in shades of mocha and nougat with splashes of cinnamon to his facial and dorsal features, he is not nearly as tasty he sounds and the permanent sharpness of an epidote green set of eyes punctuate a certain shrewdness to complete him.
Time on his own has left him bereft of the benefits a pack or group provides, and as he has aged, gives him the appearance of someone far older than he is in actuality. What he lacks in strength and health is evident, and it is clear some trauma has happened to him in the past—his left foreleg is long scarred from a heavy burn, leaving him with a permanent limp; it is a hairless twist of exposed flesh that looks and is painful. His coat has long lost its luster, his body deprived enough that he seems malnutrioned.
Tarot is the husk of a much kinder, freer soul who became a sacrificial lamb. Best described as a distrusting, depressive introvert leaning sharply into the territory of asocial; the notably expressionless, emotionless, and dry recluse. He is also prone to bouts of anxiety both generalized and social as a result of his own imposed reclusiveness, believing himself to be a harbinger of misfortune.
He is the beholder to the disconnection from social mores and cues, often coming across as uninterested and cold as a defense, only foregoing such things in the name of survival. Incredibly private in his affairs, he prefers to keep to the background and out of the public eye. Once a reverent believer in the old gods of his heritage, he has shunned away from them, but still remains an unwilling, misfortuned clairvoyant that rarely acknowledges or answers the spirits but hears them all the same. Though this has waned in years recent, he finds them a nuisance.
, he is the firstborn son of Barachiel Sawbone
and Tharja Mossmane
, and the eldest sibling to Jerna
, and Magnus
. Raised within Ravenspire, a clan of diviners and practitioners worshipping their own pantheon of deities known as The Old Gods
, he had once also considered his mentors apart of his family as well.
Eventually, he courted and took on a mate in Hesperia Alpenbluff
at a young age and within a couple of years, the pair were blessed with their own set of children—Magan
, and Tragul
—but his time was ultimately cut short with them, and he does not know if they reached their adulthood.
· (September 2015 — July 2018)
His birthplace and home to a tight knit group of diviners and practitioners in the belief of the old gods of their heritage, it is here that Tarot was born and named Hiraeth. For the first two and half years of his life he was raised in this practice and his skils as a healer and clairvoyant honed. At some point at the tail end of his adolescence he courted and was wed to Hesperia, and the two welcomed children a year later. Whether through wavering belief or a lapse in practice, his inability to guide Ravenspire through drought and famine through his practice led him to being outcast with the belief being his departure would return prosperity to them. Stripped of his ties to his home, he dropped his namesake to call himself Tarot.
LOST CREEK HOLLOW
· (October 2018 — February 2019)
Travelled a fair spell in the span of a few weeks before settling in a place known as Lost Creek Hollow, but his inability to recover from guilt and grief led him to become reclusive and eventually disappear. He wandered again, wallowing and lost in his grief like a haze and went westward, eventually hitting the coast before trailing along it aimlessly.
· (July 2019 — September 2019)
A few months later along the coast, he encountered a woman, Rhaella, who spearheaded a group on a small island under the name of Aristos. Being not unlike his own heritage, Tarot joined her with some reluctance but willing to aid her cause. Before Aristos could fully cement itself as a cohesive group, the isle was struck and caught in a series of earthquakes that led to a tsunami that swept him out to sea and carried him off. He managed to survive but questioned why—and continues to do so—and spent several very long weeks recovering before spending the last year making his way directionless and alone.