Taggy The Manguy - Deceased

"Did you take Jack off yet?"

Description:

Race: Half-Elf
Class: Thief
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Gender: Male
Age: 21 years
Height: 5’9”
Weight: 129 lbs
Hair: Dirty Blonde
Eyes: Large, blue, unassuming and adorable.
Language: Petarian (Midlander) (Just by the grace of the Gods)
Weapon Proficiencies: Short Sword, Short Bow (2)
Nonweapon Proficiencies: Appraisal (2), Direction Sense (2), Rope Use


Taggy the Manguy died in the last adventure that the Ass Kickers Anonymous had together. He was succeeded by another member of the Thieves’ Guild, Enzo Antigone.

Bio:

Taggy the Manguy’s history is not the happiest one could hope for from such a sweet, lovable idiot. If one were to delve deep enough into his background one has to reach beyond Taggy himself. The traumas and misfortunes that Taggy had to go through were severe enough to instill permanent brain damage and memory loss in him. In fact, there was a time in Taggy’s life when he was considered dangerously brilliant. To find that lost part of the man, one must seek people from his past. Unfortunately, Taggy doesn’t know who any of those people are. Luckily, an unbiased scribe of undetermined origins has chronicled his past. To learn about who Taggy is, one must start with who he started his life as.

He was born on the 8th day of Quas in the 1547th year to a full-blooded elven mother, Aralia Seyora, and a human father of origins unknown. His father has been rumored to have been a rogue mercenary, expelled from his company for tarnishing the company’s reputation of honor. Many people have often wondered how an elvish woman with pride in her bloodline could ever possibly be willing to bed with an “inferior” race and, after seeking the answer for some time, find a dark answer.

Aralia lived in an elven encampment hidden in the woods by ancient wood and magical barriers. The encampment had no real name, only a nickname which was “The Place Where Hope Ceases To Overcome”. No small power could have broken in or even simply stumbled into the area. If any being without exceptional magical powers wandered onto the premises, which would have been unlucky enough seeing how these particular elves were not open to any outsider, said being would have died within seconds in an excruciating death. Whoever this man was, by getting inside Aralia’s camp, he either was very powerful himself or had very powerful alliances with backgrounds in dark magic.

Whatever granted the man access to the camp is truly as much of a mystery as who the man was, or is, if he is still alive, and some things cannot be answered. What happened once he gained entry is common knowledge amongst the elven nomads whom choose to live separate from other societies. This man, powerful, evil, and reckless dispelled the barriers surrounding the encampment and, once inside, began to systematically slaughter and torture the denizens who were having their bicentennial festival, “Praise To Us, Forgotten and Pleased”. He did not get far, however. The festival had drawn in other nomad elven tribes which is only allowed on this one day every two hundred years. Simply put, the rogue had chosen a terrible date on which to strike.

While he did meet very solid resistance from an estimated number of two thousand or more elves of significant birth and skills that did not halt the rogue from slaying nearly one hundred and fifty of them before making his escape. This is where Aralia comes in. On the edge of the magical barrier the rogue met one last resistant group. Aralia stood strong, the leader in her group of ten, but before any of them could begin their assault the rogue had already cast a spell of immeasurable destruction. The rogue had clearly done them in. Aralia’s soldiers lay dead around her, executed immediately, while she writhed in agony. She had lost her left arm in the attack and she was nearing her last breath. In an unforeseen twist, the rogue stooped quickly in his race away from the pursuing elves and, in the same action, fed Aralia a potion which kept her alive and picked her up in his arms, stealing her from her people. It was not for four months until she was seen again.

When Aralia finally came back into the camp, it was obvious. She was in horrible condition and she was with child. She was covered in scars, blood, and burns as if Aralia had spent the past months being flogged and forced to submit to whatever deeds the rogue wished. It also looked as if she fought her way out and, using her instincts, walked what could have been hundreds of thousands of miles back to her home. What events and situations Aralia had to overcome to find her way home are unknown. She would never talk about what went on between her and the rogue. Thus began the distrust.

After Aralia’s return there was a meeting of the heads of the tribe. There were certain parties in the camp which did not want Aralia to bear the child and raise the “dirty mixblood” in their vicinity. Overall, the denizens were happier to have their sister back and the difficult decision was made to allow her to stay and raise her child. Not having the child, either through magical or physical abortion, was not an option. The tribe had strict principles about that sort of thing which could not, under any circumstance, be bent or broken. The following months leading up to Taggy’s birth were filled with happiness and support. No one was satisfied with the fact that the child Aralia would rear was going to be impure and imperfect, but they were determined to protect themselves and never let their guard down again. In fact, the bicentennial festival was henceforth banned. If keeping the tribe safe meant protecting a child of disagreeable origins, then the elders determined it would be for the best. At least, that was the feeling before Taggy actually entered the world.

Perhaps it was as soon as Taggy was cleaned and given the rites of the tribe he was hated. The tribesmen of the camp began saying things behind Aralia’s back about Taggy’s looks. His ears weren’t pointed enough. His hair, oh his hair, that dirty blonde, it’s disgusting. Whatever brought upon the sudden hatred that broke the binding word of the elders it created the Taggy that the A.K.A. has come to know. Maybe it wasn’t that they didn’t actually hate him, but that they were in love with him and they hated the love they felt.

It has been seen in current times that Taggy has very deep emotional scars regarding purebred elves. He is distrustful, disagreeable, and downright rude to any well-intentioned elf. As much as proud bloodline elves hate mixbreeds, Taggy hates purebreds. He’s not aware of why though. His memories have been locked away and forgotten. However, it all truly boils down to his life at the camp.

Taggy The Manguy - Deceased

The World of Ferlan jakehubbard Undrallio