Information


Jean Marzena has a minion!

Sihr the Invisible Man




Jean Marzena
Legacy Name: Jean Marzena


The Steamwork Jollin
Owner: shylarah

Age: 7 years, 10 months, 2 weeks

Born: May 9th, 2016

Adopted: 7 years, 10 months, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: May 9th, 2016

This pet has been nominated for the Pet Spotlight!

Statistics


  • Level: 202
     
  • Strength: 505
     
  • Defense: 505
     
  • Speed: 417
     
  • Health: 505
     
  • HP: 505/505
     
  • Intelligence: 390
     
  • Books Read: 390
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Master Key Turner


minion
A Protector of the Wayward Squirrel, Jean is a clever vagabond with a love of a good puzzle. Depending on the setting, she's also become a polymath and an iljimae. She was captain of the Fellowship, and has trekked along with the Wayfarers. Currently a proud member of Team Steve. She is always up for an adventure.

She is on the short side of average, athletically built with a good balance of fat and muscle. She favors modest, hard-wearing clothes and little to no makeup, though the occasional chance to dress up a bit is not unwelcome. Her wavy brown hair falls slightly past her shoulders, the ends highlighted in a faded blue. Her brown eyes are sharp and lively, and for reading she wears wire-framed glasses. She's rarely without her satchel at her waist, and she keeps all manner of useful things within. Another fixture of her outfits is a round silver pin from her time with the Fellowship.

Jean's a woman of a variety of skills. One of her best is puzzles and riddles, and many of her adventures outside of the Squirrel involve ruins and lost civilizations. She's got some skill with a knife or her bladed staff (thanks to Venom), but she'd prefer to talk than fight in most situations. If she has to, she is quite good at using makeshift weapons and taking advantage of the terrain. Other items with combat use include smoke bombs and flashbangs, both of which she knows how to make. She knows a utility spell or two, but nothing particularly fancy.

She owns a hovercycle she adores, and she's a good rider. She's also got some skill in piloting spaceships and other vehicles. She's agile, sneaky, and a good climber, especially when aided by her enchanted grappling hook, one of her most valued possessions. She's got a knack for tinkering with gadgetry, and is quite fond of the urban fantasy/steampunk vibe of Crystania. She carries a sonic screwdriver, and keeps a small notepad and pencil with her at all times, as well as a set of actual lockpicks. She knows how to make and disarm traps, and a number of other useful skills.

Jean is friendly and outgoing, with a love for wit and puns. She's a veteran Protector and willing to lend a hand in a pinch. She'd rather talk than fight, but if it comes down to it she doesn't hold back. She does her best to keep various personalities (read: Sorn) working with the others around, and dislikes conflict between friends or comrades. She's got a competitive streak, and a wicked sense of humor, as well as a creative flair.

Her companion Sihr is a tiny faeling a handful of inches tall that generally hides in Jean's hair or satchel. Her face has an animalistic cast, and her lithe body is covered in downy fur, with fluffy ruffs at wrists and ankles. She's mostly pale gray, with her ruffs, hair, and the tufts at the tips of ears and tail a darker color, closer to storm clouds. She speaks solely mind-to-mind, with control over who among those present can hear her, with a range somewhat less than a loud talking volume. She cannot hear the thoughts of others, nor read minds.

As a tiny prey creature, Sihr is painfully timid and wary of larger animals that might enjoy a faeling snack. Earning her trust requires patience, as all strangers are seen as dangerous. Offensively Sihr is extremely weak, but she does have sharp teeth and retractable claws, which she will use to defend herself if hiding or fleeing is not an option. This generally translates to "if grabbed or about to be grabbed". She has the power of flight, useful for one so small, and her tiny hands are very nimble. She's also able to exert force on objects in excess of what should be physically possible for such a tiny creature, using the same magic that keeps her aloft to magnify pushes and pulls to some extent. She's accompanied Jean on adventures for a number of years, figuring herself safer with a large friend to protect her than off on her own.
Jean had never really considered herself much of a fighter. It was far better to be clever than it was to be strong, in her opinion, but nonetheless there were still times one had to employ force. As HeiYu and Klytie worked to bless weapons, the iljimae went over what she knew of their opponents, and prepared a few tricks of her own. Prep work was always the hardest part -- things seemed much simpler once she was moving, but that was probably because there was no time for worrying in the moment. Then she tried to remember the pointers Venom had given her about staff fighting. She was very glad he’d convinced her to learn how to use something other than just her knife. The short blade had always been enough in the past for defense, but he’d pointed out that the Protectors sometimes had to go on the attack, and she was going to find a time when she wanted something with better reach. It was a shame he didn’t think she was ready for a spear or glaive yet, but that would come in time.

Finally the enchanting was done, and Jean, Tanaka, Larianne, and Lappy climbed into the little boat. The ferryman poled them out into the lake, heading for the other shore. Mist quickly hid the shore behind them, and the iljimae thought she saw movement that meant they were not alone in it. It wasn’t more than a few moments after that she got her first good look at what she faced. Translucent figures, garbed in white, most with long hair. They floated in midair, but they were anything but slow. Jean adjusted her grip on her staff and swung it at the first one that came her way, the wood meeting no resistance at all as it swept through the gwishin’s midsection. This one had no face, but she could tell if it had, its expression would have contorted in pain and rage, before the ghost vanished altogether. More gwishin followed after, swarming the tiny vessel from all sides. The iljimae quickly found a rhythm, using wide, sweeping strikes as she balanced near the boat’s prow to avoid hitting the three behind her. The spirits didn’t seem to have much in the way of tactics, apparently relying on their seemingly limitless numbers, and any contact from her blessed weapon banished them. Jean was grateful that she didn’t actually have to hit them individually. There was no way she would have been able to handle so many, not at her current skill level.

The gwishin grew fewer once the far shore came into view, but Sihr warned the woman that she could sense a twisted creature up ahead. The iljimae pulled the lightly spelled cloth mask hanging around her neck up to cover her nose and mouth. “I want you two to head for the lever,” she said softly over her shoulder, whirling her staff up through the stomach of one ghost and the shoulders of a second. “We don’t need to kill the dragon, just avoid it. Leave that to me -- if I really need help, I’ll send Sihr. When I shout, close your eyes for a moment.”

The little boat’s hull brushed land, and Jean leaped ashore, unhinging her staff’s joints and looping the attached cord over her head and one shoulder so it hung out of her way. It was only a few steps before a large shape rushed at her out of the fog, greenish smoke trailing from the beast’s nostrils. “Eyes!” the iljimae cried, flinging down a flashbang as she lunged aside. The explosion of light was bright against her closed eyelids, but to the unprepared dragon it was blinding, and left the creature disoriented. Jean dashed away to give her more space to maneuver, in a different direction than the one Tanaka and Larianne had taken.

Just because it couldn’t see her at the moment didn’t mean the dragon would give her a reprieve. A green cloud spewed from its mouth and billowed outwards. It made Jean’s eyes sting, and even with the cloth over her face she could feel a burning in her lungs. The mask was not designed for magic toxins, just regular ones. That was why she’d switched the flash powder in a number of her flashbangs for charcoal and salt: both ingredients were effective against evil beings. If she could get one in the dragon’s mouth, she’d put an end to the thing’s breath weapon.

First she had to get herself a clear shot, though. The scattered trees in her chosen battleground made it harder for her opponent to maneuver and slowed it down, but Jean’s first dragon-bomb still went wide. Her second was better-aimed, and burst against the dragon’s leg, making it lash at her with its claws. The second hit, square on the beast’s snout, made it pull back and let out an angry bellow, more of the foul fumes swirling into the air. The iljimae had hoped she’d be able to lob another bomb in if she could get it to roar, but it seemed that she’d need to try a different tactic. She’d thought of another option, but it was far more risky. Then again, running around trying to avoid the dragon while it attacked with claws, jaws, and poison was hardly an improvement, Jean reflected, as she wove between trees to avoid letting the twisted creature get a good opening. And judging by the way it had plowed through several of the smaller saplings, the longer she waited the harder it was going to get.

Poised to move fast when her foe reacted, the iljimae stopped running and turned to face the dragon. It came at her in a rush, forgoing claw swipes in favor of just eating the bothersome woman whole. That gave Jean the chance she needed. She hurled a dragon-bomb in the gaping maw even as she dove aside, rolling so she would be back on her feet right away. There was a muffled fwoomp and the dragon let out an enraged roar, rearing up and tearing at the ground with its forepaws. The frills and whiskers around the lionish face trembled in fury, a number of them now stained with charcoal, but only a dwindling curl of poison gas emerged from its mouth, before that too ceased.

The battle was hardly finished, however, and Jean was already back in motion. She’d used the brief respite as the beast raged to retrieve her grappling hook and another flashbang from her satchel. If she didn’t get a chance to retrieve the device later she would be upset, and have to make enough money to replace it, but better that than to kill a creature that might be saved. By the time her opponent got over its mouth full of nasty and returned its attention to the fight, the lady was already casting the hook, aiming for the row of upright spines that ran along the length of the dragon’s back. It caught as she pulled the line tight, of course. That was part of why she liked it so much -- it always caught, if there was something to catch on. Now Jean needed to really hurry. The flashbang she threw at the ground as she ran towards the beast, closing her eyes just long enough that she wouldn’t be blinded. She slid under the belly toward the front, tossing a loop of line around a raised foreclaw and quickly changing directions, letting the line play out behind her as she went. Not too loose, not too tight. She knew it wouldn’t break; the other reason it was so valuable was the special cord used. The dragon turned toward where it thought she was heading, and Jean instead dodged around a rear leg and threw a loop around its finned tail, which had coiled toward her.

Even disoriented, the dragon could hardly miss the line pulling tight, but as it turned again, seeking Jean, she was leaping for its back. Her hand grasped one of the spines, and she pulled herself up, narrowly missing losing her leg as the beast curved itself nearly double in an attempt to bite the lady that now clung to its back. Another loop of her line went around the nearest spine, and she managed to get another around one farther down before she had to hook her arm over a spine herself, to keep from being thrown off as the dragon writhed. “Sihr, flashbang,” Jean said, dropping her hand by her satchel so the faeling could hand her another from where she hid in the iljimae’s satchel. Flashbang in one hand, a couple loops of line in the other, she leaped off and away, slamming the explosive down on the dragon’s scaly back as she did. It was starting to have real trouble moving, with two legs and its tail tangled with each other and the spines on its back, and now the woman could rely on her line to help her change directions as she reached the limit and was suddenly swinging back in, wincing at the sudden jerk she felt in her shoulders in the process. Under the belly, and trap the other foreleg, then a dragon-bomb to make it flinch and she could put a loop over one of the horns and pull it tight.

Jean should have waited longer to try to secure the head, and she was pulled off her feet as the dragon reared back as much as the lines restricting it would allow. The woman yelped and nearly lost her grip. Getting herself enough line to make it to the ground was difficult, what with her opponent swinging her about like a fly-fishing lure. The moment she did Jean dodged around the nearest large tree, anchoring her line on something that wouldn’t be so easily moved.

A few more passes and the dragon, while struggling, was no longer a serious menace. Just to be sure, the iljimae tied a solid knot to secure the last line to one of the earlier ones. Then she backed away to a safe distance and breathed a sigh of relief. By then Larianne had pulled the lever to lower the bridge, and the next part of their mission was in sight, once they rejoined the others.

Venom


Fellow Protector, a brave warrior and good friend. There's no one I'd rather have watching my back.

Sorn


Fellow Protector, a powerful mage. Not swift to trust, but once he does he is a true friend.
Fellowship team picture by Tricia Bayfield - x
Fellowship year 2 picture by Alexis Royce - x
Jean and Sihr by shylarah - x
Jean and Sihr by Cheshire - x
Jean and Sihr by SlashSlashX - x
Jean by Pinkberri - x
Jean and Sihr by Cheshire - x
profile template by Lea
minion overlay by Kyla
the Wayward Squirrel is run by the ever lovely and amazing GreenRowan
profile and story by me, shylarah
Jean and Sihr belong to shylarah
HeiYu belongs to arixen
Venom belongs to Cheshire
Sorn belongs to Raven
Larianne, Tanaka, Lappy, Klytie and the rest belong to GreenRowan
writing prompt for Jean's story designed by GreenRowan, part of WS4, chapter 10

Pet Treasure


Home at the Wayward Squirrel

Parchment of the Fellowship

Shy Faeling Companion

Ace Pride Flag

Left Hammered Silver Metal Brooch

Small Gray Glasses

Grave Robber Toolkit

Sneak Thief Reliable Satchel

Spacetime Sonic Tool

Mad-Science Multitool

Sneak Thief Pick Set

Iron Lock Picks

Police Notebook

Dark Ranger Combat Dagger

Blue Hover Bike Ignition Key

Blue Hoverbike

Almighty Pen

Thru Time Pocket Watch

Time Travel Device

Saheric Maze Teleportation Device

Archaeology Field Notebook

Unkempt Schematic Parchment

Miniature Saheric Slider Puzzle

Saheric Cipher Disk

Star Chart

Worn Out Library Card

Well-Loved Beat-Up Book

D10 of Destiny

Pet Friends


Venom
Fellow Protector, a brave warrior and good friend. There's no one I'd rather have watching my back.

Sorn
Fellow Protector, a powerful mage. Not swift to trust, but once he does he is a true friend.