Neutral Equine Commoner of Morthalion Novice
Alignment Species Rank Buff
36 Mare — she/her 17hh 80ʜs
Age Sex Height Currency


Tioga (pronounced tea-oh-guh )is a cross bred conception of a rocky mountain horse and a thoroughbred, making her well muscled, strong, and hardy as a result. She stands tall, taking after her Sire's side, becoming quite an image of exotic beauty to some, and a behemoth of a woman to others. A well chiseled head sits on a long neck, and her chest is deep, body lean. She sports the typical flaxen mane and tail (medium length, straight, and fine- often causing it to tangle and twist in cords), acquired from her Dam’s genetics, as well as the dappling that covers her faded, grey coat (it was once so black).

Tioga exhibits a single-foot gait, well known and attributed to her rocky mountain heritage, her movement smooth and energy efficient as a result. Quick and sure-footed, she is no racer, lacking the stamina for sprints- best suited for endurance.

Her eyes can best be described as a brand new, copper penny. Shining, intelligent and warm. She sees much with those penny eyes, choosing more often than not to observe rather than speak, a quiet but perceptive presence.

There are no discerning markings on her body. No pale stripes, socks or scars for that matter. Her points, are a darker shade of slate than the rest of her, coating her nostrils mouth and shins. Cream walled hooves grace the end of her, overall a soft appearance to accentuate her good-natured demeanor.


This tall, dappled beauty, is good-natured, in a nutshell.

Warm, she will always offer greeting, and a curved smile against her steely lips. Though far from extroverted, she is agreeable, willing to see the potential and appeal in most ideas, others actions. There are always two sides to a coin. Sympathetic, there is deep compassion to be found in Tioga, having seen the world for the horrors it held, first hand. Eager to help, whether it is a lending a hoof, a listening ear to hear you out, or even a shoulder, for comfort or encouragement.

There is a deep rooted drive to be found in her as well, determined to see things through- whatever the outcome.

First born of her Mother’s brood (an impressive nine), she has a definitive need to care for those younger than herself. Drawn to those that are frail or afraid, a pewter shield to protect, taking the brunt of taunts or physical harm in their place. She has trouble backing down from a bully, often using her large size to deter a threat- making a voice for those that can not find their own.

Some might call her courageous, when they do, she often turns a shy cheek to any attempt at a compliment, quick to dismiss praise and change the subject.


Tioga was born with the warmth of the morning sun on her back, in fields of lush, emerald clover. Heaven’s Gates they called it, the greenest of gardens, great sprawling fields of wildflowers. Paradise on Earth, The Mother Tree at its heart, she had rested in its shade as girl- lazy and naive.

First born daughter to a new and dainty Dam, Wichita was rather small to have birthed a burden of her size- but she had managed nonetheless. Tioga was all leg, taking after her Sire, Khaos, an oppressive and cruel man. She learned, much later in life, he had taken advantage of her Mother, it was why she had such a hard time meeting her daughter’s copper stare.

In the end, love was stronger than the evil that helped create her, love of a Mother to a child. Tioga has never met her Father, though she has had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting the rest of her siblings- foals raised in a cult, praising a statue made of iron. Khaos had started a ripple effect, leading to his early demise, trapped inside the very thing he had coveted the most- metal. Those of his seed, lingered in their Cove, incestual heathens that mistook power for pride.

Tioga denounced them all, clinging to the safety and sanctuary of the Gates- her Mother and her younger siblings. The Cove, was no family of hers.

Within the confines of nirvana, she thrived, for a time, though her life was anything but extraordinary. Days spent watching over her siblings, their Mother rising in the ranks of diplomacy, though she played sitter with nothing but love in her heart.

Bliss, as we know, never lasts, their happiness causing thorns in the hearts of the unrighteous. That was the day the outsiders burned down The Mother Tree, setting fire to the holy shrine within their Kingdom, laying waste to all that was pure- that was the day the Gates was no more.

That, that was the day Straia ended her Mother's life.

So they fled, what else could be done? Her blood had raced in her veins, her words took on a tone so unfamiliar, harsh, commanding her younger siblings to run- run away, and never look back


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OOC name: Witty
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