Myranya is a Talenta hunting-shaman turned battle-shaman (there's some comment somewhere in the Eberron books about Tallenta halfling shamans with "Druids" in parentheses after it, I've been looking for it, I'm sure it's there, just need to find it!).
She was originally a member of the Shortfang tribe, but married into the rather small Bloodstripe tribe eighteen years ago. Her husband, Halthan, was a hunter/warrior, and while she did some scouting and was combat trained, she was really more of a minor "medicine-woman" type...This was not a matter of sexism, the Tallenta halflings are notedly egalitarian...There were simply more powerful druids in the small tribe and she wanted to have children and participate in raising them. She participated in important hunts, particularly defensive ones (entangle would be darned useful to put a sudden stop to something threatening one's herds) and did blessings and healing when needed.
This was a little unusual among the Bloodstripe, as (like several RL tribal societies) the husband's sister or aunt tended to be more the 'custodian' of the children. Not bad or tabu, just unusual.
She had twin sons two decades ago. They've officially been grown men for almost six years and have married into two other tribes.
During the early part of the war, House Deneith recruited about a third of the Bloodstripe tribe to act as mercenary light cavalry, which were hired out to Cyre. Since the Bloodstripes largely roamed the southeast Tallenta Plains, there was little chance they would conflict with their own. The mercenary group was not just warriors, but also a chunk of their herds, families and support (lots of mercenary companies aggregate 'campaign wives' and families...This one started with them!). Myranya and her husband went along as part of this group.
While Cyre was not their homeland, it was certainly spectacular, but it was crumbling and being destroyed day by day. One of the lessons the Bloodstripes took away from this was that all the precious knowledges and toys and trifles of 'civilization' vanished quickly...And those who succumbed to them and took them for granted were ill-prepared to move out at a moment, with spear in hand and herds beside them as the Tallenta tribes could. In a peculiar way, without being rude, Myranya (and others of her tribe if they turn up) are more likely to regard those who flaunt their civilization with pity than awe...Because when it all falls apart, someone will have to take care of these people.
The Bloodstripes primarily acted as scouts/skirmishers for Cyre. Skirmishers don't always get away cleanly. In an incident during the last year of the war, her husband didn't return from a charge. No more detail than that in the heat and dust and confusion of battle, and he was hardly the only one. She mourned for about a half year as tradition required, but rather than taking the opportunity of adopting the role of an honored widow, with her sons grown and married off she instead looked to take his place in the line. She called a good hunting dinosaur, an allosaur, and trained it in the Tallenta fashion for combat. "Little Glutton" is something of a mischievous brute, and has a mild propensity for trouble and curiousity, but the two of them are as well-linked as any rider could ask. His own inquisitiveness is a good counterbalance for her mature reserve.
During the half year that followed, Myranya was in several minor battles, but mostly acted as a healer or support rather than a warrior, though her mount's own aggression got her out of a few scrapes.
On the Day of Mourning, the Bloodstripe were encamped at the western flank of the Cyrean forces. When the grey mist approached, it was from the east...Between the tribe and the Tallenta Plains. The tribe fled West from what is now the Field of Ruins, ending up in Kennrun escorting a contingent of Cyran refugees.
By the time they reached Breland, there really wasn't a "Cyrean army." The implacable mist made a rout of maneuvering larger formations. As a small mercenary unit, the Tribe acted in a fairly self-sufficient manner. They encountered other House Deneith mercenaries along the way, and an aggregate surrender/repatriation was agreed upon through House Deneith representatives in Breland.
This agreement was almost immediately revised into a new contract: some elements of the routed armies had turned bandit, and despite the generosity of the Brelish king there were issues and worries about safely handling the massive influx of refugees, some of whom undoubtedly included loyal Cyran military that (in the great confusion) continued to blame Breland for the mist or otherwise tried to take advantage of the chaos to redress old grievances. The tribe found itself acting as escorts and support for movements of refugee groups, and occasionally put to tracking small groups of Cyran and other deserters who seemed to be moving from the newly created Mournlands into Breland.
Two years later, with New Cyre well-established and the majority of the deserter problems solved one way or another, the tribe was told their contract was concluded, and the halflings elected to inform House Deneith that they were returning to the Plains...Albeit by a rather long detour to the North.
Myranya and a few others (mostly those who had married into the tribe, or who had lost those friends who most tied them into the tribe's society) stayed behind, continuing to work for House Deneith individually or in small groups, and to fulfill their own curiousity about the strange (and becoming stranger) place in which they have found themselves. It is a result of this curiousity which has led her northward and into Aundair.
While the Talenta are reputed to be rather aggressive, and Myranya might at first glance seem somewhat dour for a halfling, a faint hint of a smile usually does linger on her face for the world around her. She manifests a peculiarly maternal role with regard to the Cyran refugees and others who have been displaced or injured by the last war...I.E., a majority of the people she meets. She saw the desolation of the Mournland as it was born and the destruction of several populations and families. While she is still a druid, what she serves at this time has slowly spread to encompass not simply the idea of 'nature,' but that of 'life.' A fool human with his odd widgets and little magical toys and marked-leaves with trapped powers may be a fool, but is still just as potentially worthy of preservation as a young oak sapling. In time, the young oak may grow old, and the fool may learn better to embrace the flows of power in the world itself rather than working so hard trying to contain and control them...and who knows? An elder human could be as important to those around it as an elder oak.
Her sense of humor best manifests itself with a little drink and a lot of good company. She's surprisingly burly for her size, but without a beard there's no chance of her being mistaken for a dwarven girl. Even so, you don't want to get into an arm-wrestling match with her. Between the geometry of longer arms at lower angles and her own dense biceps, she gets quite a lot of free drinks from people who try.
