Character profile

Daisy Bottoms

Race:

Halfling

Gender:

female

Age:

26 years

Birthday:

17. Siros 49 AW

Currently offline

Description of the character

aisy Bottoms is a sun-kissed halfling woman with auburn hair cut into a practical bob, bright green eyes, and a freckled face that always seems a little dusty from the fields. At 26, she carries the sturdy build of a lifelong farmer, broad-shouldered, strong-backed, and never far from a patch of dirt under her fingernails. Her clothing is simple and worn: a green undershirt beneath brown overalls, boots scuffed from long walks and early mornings. Perched low on her nose sit round glasses, often smudged from habit, which she pushes up with a dirt-stained finger when she’s thinking. Though book-learning has never come easy to her, Daisy sees the world with sharp, practical eyes and hears the truth in silence. She’s grounded, warm, and just a little absentminded, often caught humming to herself or staring too long at a healthy row of carrots. Her laugh is rich, her hands are steady, and her presence feels like coming home. At her side is her husband, Tabris— a quiet, pale-skinned elf whose silver-white hair and reserved grace balance her rustic fire. Together, they’ve settled in Galmair, where Daisy now helps run her father’s merchant shop, though she dreams of someday owning a small patch of land, just enough for a garden… and maybe a few sheep.

Story of the character

Born on the 17th of Siros, 49 AW, Daisy Bottoms came into the world during a heavy spring rain that flooded the creek and turned the fields of Pennymill into lakes of thick, brown mud. Her mother liked to say it was the land itself that welcomed her—the first to hold her. And in many ways, it never let go.

The Bottoms family had lived in Pennymill for generations, known for their hearty root vegetables, patient sheep, and good humor. Daisy was the second of three, all born squalling and healthy under the same old oak beams of their family farmhouse. Her mother was the local midwife and herbalist, and her father, Bernie Bottoms, was a well-liked farmer and craftsman who eventually took his goods to market and, in time, across the sea.

From the moment she could walk, Daisy was handed a tool. At first, it was a tiny trowel for playing in the dirt; by ten, she was hauling sacks of grain and weeding rows taller than her head. She didn’t mind. In fact, she liked it. There was something satisfying about the rhythm of it all: planting, tending, harvesting. She loved the soil under her nails and the ache in her back after a day’s work. Books, on the other hand, made her sweat in the bad way. She struggled with letters and numbers, and though her parents tried to teach her, it took years before she could read a full page without a headache. Always absentminded.

But Daisy had other gifts. She saw things others missed; a wilting leaf, the change in a sheep's posture before a storm, a lie on someone’s tongue before they even spoke. And she had a way of making people feel… steadier, just by being near. Her laughter, like her cooking, was warm and filling.

At twenty-six, Daisy received a letter from her father. His merchant business, once a small venture carting produce to nearby villages, had grown into something larger than he could handle alone. He’d settled far across the sea in a bustling city called Galmair, where merchants barked prices and buildings climbed toward the clouds. He needed help. Not with ledgers or contracts, but with people. With stock. With steadiness.

Daisy didn’t hesitate. She packed what she could: her tools, her spare glasses, a pouch of dried seeds, and a knitted scarf from her ma. The journey across the sea was rough, and she spent most of it gripping the rail and turning green. But when she arrived, the world seemed impossibly wide, and she stood in the middle of it, boots scuffed, freckles deepened by sun, ready to find her place. Daisy didn’t come alone to Galmair, either. At her side was her husband, Tabris, a tall, quiet elf with pale white skin and hair like spun moonlight. They’d met during one of her father’s early trade runs, and while they couldn’t have been more different, something about her grounded warmth and his still, strange grace fit just right. He doesn't say much, but he's always watching— and he's never far from her side.

Now, Daisy helps her father run his small storefront and supply chain, behind the scenes- farming, collecting produce, baking... though she dreams of saving enough coin to one day buy a bit of land outside the city. Just a little plot. Just enough for a garden. And maybe, if the winds keep blowing in her favor… enough space for sheep again.