ER:Suriah Chase

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A player character in the Errant Road on-line free-form role-playing game, portrayed by Caoimhe Faelan. Her basic concept appears here, from which the following description is taken. Of course, she doesn't exist in the Poe-verse.

Suriah is a half elf, with all that that implies -- notably a mindset of constantly being in fear of her life, which is actually quite reasonable when you think about it. She enters the game when various odd events take a large party of player characters (notably Drusia Valis) to her home town of Gervasiel. There she's found working in a stable that becomes an important part of the story, and joins the party after Drusia and the others take a liking to her. Actually, "take a liking" doesn't do it justice in Drusia's case: the two become lovers, which is really quite a remarkable step considering that Drusia is an elf, and at that, a ranger normally devoted to hunting down half elves for reasons considerably less agreeable than making lovers out of them. However, Drusia's attitude toward half elves is more Sarine-like than typically elven, so things really work out quite well.

It having become clear (via a testy exchange involving Father Amalric, high priest of the Orthodox Veracian Church in town) that Suriah doesn't feel welcome in Gervasiel, she and Drusia decide that they might have more of a future in the half-elf sanctuary town of Snamish, which the party is preparing to visit anyway. She therefore tags along through assorted adventures en route to Snamish, and is installed there with Drusia as the rest of the party (Sister Rose, Argus, etc.) goes off to their next adventure. That's the last we've seen of her, and she's presumably still there.




Suriah is 37 years old in human terms, but looks to be more like 19 because of her ancestry. She stands a short 4'11” with a child-like figure. Her face has a distinct pixie-ish quality to it that gives her a mischievous look – constantly. Her eyes are dark and luminous, tilted up at the corners but wide and liquid, almost too large for her face. Her small button nose is peppered with freckles and her rosebud mouth quirks happily at the slightest hint of a joke – or even not one. Her hair is styled carefully into short, apricot curls with carefully feathered bangs. Her ears are punctuated firmly every couple of centimeters with another hole, which are currently laced with very fine chain that ends in single rose-quartz droplets. She favors flowing clothing over her skin-tight work clothes in soft, pastel colors.


Weapon Proficiency: She knows how to use any number of small implements that might be used in leather working for the sake of making horse-riding materials, as well as treating horse wounds … or to protect said horses. Very good with clubs [best for larger animals trying to attack a herd], a sling [good for smaller, irritating animals – or ones with pretty fur; she's mastered a double-shot method], and a small knife, rather essential when working with anything on four legs.

Magic: Limited due to the fears of the other people in her village; afraid of any Errant tendencies. Knows mostly healing spells for the benefit of the herd, although she does know the occasional water spell.


Suriah has lived in Gervasiel for as long as she can remember. Being of half-elven descent, she doesn't know who her father was, but she does know that her mother gave birth to her, stayed long enough to give her somewhere to stay [i.e., find someone to pawn her off on], then left. Truthfully, she'd been passed from person to person in the village for as long as she can remember, never having quite enough time to become attached to any one person – maybe because they'd hoped she'd leave when she hit the age of majority.

Unlucky for them, she likes the small, relatively peaceful town. Until recently, it's been very calm and a good place to stay. However, her feet have begun to itch for the road, for something different than what she's always known – although she supposes it's a bit late for someone with elven blood. Better late than never, her fellow townspeople would tell you with thinly veiled hope behind their eyes.

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