Master Chanthea


Runners: Developing runner breeds
Rabbits: Breeding angoras for wool production
Ferrets: General breeding


Despite the years creeping up on her, Chanthea still bears the freckles of her youth across the bridge of her straight nose and onto her rosy, weathered cheeks. Her eyes are a deep blue, crow's feet appearing at their edges now when she smiles. There's a peppering of white streaking through her black curls, which she normally has tied back into a ponytail or a braid, though there are always strands escaping to bother her gaze. She may have gained a little weight over the years, but she's still in pretty good shape thanks to her years of riding.
Dressed for comfort and practicality, she opts for a pair of well-worn trousers, a hardy shirt and a pair of sturdy boots - and there's guaranteed to be some of her home-grown angora wool in the ensemble somewhere.
Chanthea's knot denotes her as a Master in the Herder Craft, posted to the Herder Hall.


The only child of Herders Chalin and Karathea from Tillek, it was only natural that Chanthea would join the craft once she was old enough. Her love of animals meant that, as far as she was concerned, there were no other occupations to interest her.

And so Chanthy moved to the main hall at Keroon, aged 12. She settled in right away, and as soon as she was able she decided to specialize in her two favourite animals - runners and rabbits. Due to her laid-back personality, she advanced pretty slowly through the ranks, choosing to develop a breed of miniature-sized runners as her main focus once she because a Journeywoman.

These miniatures are her pride and joy, and she'll eagerly spread the word about them to anyone who'll listen. The rabbits that she specializes in are bred for wool, and she's learnt to spin and even knit because of them - don't be surprised if she tries to offer you some rabbit wool-lined clothing to ward off the High Reaches cold.

During her time at the Hall, Chanthea has had three children. The eldest, born a turn after her promotion to Journeywoman, is Xanthea - though her lips are sealed as to who the girl's father is. After Xanthea came Frejyan, followed by Ythea, both fathered by Herder Journeyman Frejyski during her six turn relationship with him, while posted to a remote Crom minehold.

Chanthea walked the tables to become a Master a few months before her 39th turnday.


Name Relation Location Position
Chalin (Deceased) Father Keroon Herder Hall Retired Master
Karathea(Deceased) Mother Keroon Herder Hall Retired Master
Xanthea (F) (-20) Daughter HR Herder Hall Senior Apprentice
Frejyan (F) (-22) Daughter HR Herder Hall Apprentice
Frejyea (F) (-24) Daughter HR Herder Hall Junior Apprentice



Brown Puddin'
As cute as a button - or at least his owner thinks so. He's rounded from tip to toe, from his snub little muzzle to the blunted end of his stubby tail. A rich, buttery brown covers his hide, blending into creamy chocolate on his muzzle, each of his four paws and his wings - the spars of which are a liquid mocha.

Blue Lordling
Blue as the dark sapphire, this little one's hide shimmers and shines, almost as if he's been cut from the stone itself. He's small even for a blue, but so perfectly proportioned as to care less about his stature. Around the base of his headknobs runs a delicate filigreed silver pattern, tiny threads of colour interwoven with aqua to create a miniature, gem-studded crown.

Former firelizards:
Gold Tempest
Cyclonic darkness broods over her large form, stocky build as strong as a ship's storm-battered hull, and dusted with the same barnacled hue all along her 'ridges to the tip of her spaded tail. Caramal braves the storm-tossed ochre that dapples her muzzle, sweeping back over large eyes and along her stubby, blunt headknobs, before exploding into tornadic whirls of teak and taupe that mark her short neck, bubbling into the brewing storm of sienna that engulfs the storm-whipped hide of her gibbous body. Arruth rages down her tail, culminating in a purple-blushed tip, thunderheads brewing in a silent, omniscient blackness. Her buff belly is almost a haven from the storm, tainted with sands' pale golden glow, copper and saffron melting together into almost sunkissed lightness, though the threat of hurricane darkness ever brews on the edge of paradise.

Bronze Imp
Tendrils of loving copper melt into the gold-dusted bitter chocolate of his hide, his stream-lined form made less so by the plump curve of his belly. A smudge of caramel runs down the centre of his broad face, bug-like eyes whirling greedily beneath toasted headknobs. Cookie-crumbs dapple his spine, falling either side of rounded 'ridges, spreading out across the sugar-spun expanse of his delicate wings.

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