{
  "character": {
    "id": "bab5d465-5e26-4119-8a76-7e12bf399086",
    "slug": "moiriel",
    "name": "Moiriel",
    "race": "Elf",
    "character_class": "Sorcerer",
    "jan_favorite": false,
    "is_ff_portrait": false,
    "profile_url": "https://framedfantasy.com/pages/hero?h=moiriel",
    "character_url": "https://hall-library.framedfantasy.com/characters/moiriel",
    "character_json_url": "https://hall-library.framedfantasy.com/characters/moiriel.json",
    "character_markdown_url": "https://hall-library.framedfantasy.com/characters/moiriel.md",
    "original_image_url": "https://obadckrukccwkjgpbsxa.supabase.co/storage/v1/object/public/portraits/quest_1776785113586_0.jpeg",
    "image_url": "https://hall-library.framedfantasy.com/images/moiriel",
    "thumbnail_url": "https://obadckrukccwkjgpbsxa.supabase.co/storage/v1/object/public/portraits/quest_1776785113586_0.jpeg",
    "crop": {
      "x": 50,
      "y": 11,
      "zoom": 115
    },
    "story_excerpt": "You are the chosen who never stopped feeling like an accident, the noble cast out who found holiness in exile. You walked the Blackfen because wandering became your prayer, and you investigated the Iron Matron from the shadows because doubt taught you to see what others miss. What carried you back w",
    "story": "You are the chosen who never stopped feeling like an accident, the noble cast out who found holiness in exile. You walked the Blackfen because wandering became your prayer, and you investigated the Iron Matron from the shadows because doubt taught you to see what others miss. What carried you back was not your family's acceptance but a dragonfly's light, the moment wild magic stopped being your failure and became your god's intent. You kneel before Corellon but still flinch when someone calls you worthy, carrying divinity like borrowed armor that might be reclaimed at any moment. At the table, you'll be remembered as the sorcerer who turned shame into scripture, who proved that being unwanted by your house meant you were needed by something greater.\n\nDefining moment: Moiriel heard Their parents’ speaking in a hushed, terse before entering the sitting room; They had already received news from their spies among the Academy staff. When Moiriel entered Their parents stopped speaking. Ruathenyl Starym stood. Meithrynen turned to gaze out the window, sipping her wine as if her daughter were not even there. Moiriel was a stain upon the Starym legacy, Their father said in his accustomed quiet, dignified Elven anger. He was clearly raging inside. She would be sent to serve at Angharroth’s temple and overlooked as heir. Moiriel nodded in resignation, knowing They had no intention of obeying. Moiriel gathered Their things and went, not to the temple, but to Their favorite haunt - the patchwork of sun and shade created by the bent, ancient trees and stones at the foot of The Greycloaks. A flicker of light drew Moiriel’s dark eyes. A large dragonfly that shone like moonlight and glittered like starlight, flitting and whirling about beneath the largest of the old willows as if to draw Their attention. Moiriel cautiously approached so as not to startle the marvelous creature. At Their approach the dragonfly wheeled once around Them, then glided a bit further into the shade before settling upon a rock. Moiriel followed, kneeling before the dragonfly which lit the shade light a moonlamp. Eye-to-eye with the creature, the light it gave off swelled to envelop her and that was when the vision came; Corellon called Moiriel by name, charged Them to take up the blade and bow, become and acolyte in Their service, and use the Wild Magic with which Moiriel was born - the magic the tutors tried in frustration to hone and focus - the way it had always wanted to be used, the way it *wanted* to be used; as Corellon’s own Holy Magic, in Their service, to bring healing and comfort to all peoples. And thus from noble heir of an ancient Elven family to a wandering sage and warrior in Their service Elf Father’s service; wandering until Moiriel’s feet forgot how to be sore, sitting by streams in quiet observation for days, weeks, months, until They could see The Weave in the flowing of the water and drifting of the clouds. Music, magic, meditation, and wandering, wandering, wandering….\n\nChosen by Their god, doesn’t really believe They are worthy, socially awkward"
  }
}