Category: Lowen’s family
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Derrick Hale
From Ferwell’s forge came steady work and quiet song. A smith’s son, square-nailed and calloused, he whistled while shaping iron—more tune than talk in him.

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Corenna Hale
Born of western smiths, she ruled Kellack’s market with polish and precision. Beneath the great elm, her stall gleamed—cloth brushed, jars shining, every detail exacting.

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The Hale Family
The Hales hail from Kellack Wheal – a family of smiths, but not blacksmiths. Their work was finer — wire, clasps, buckles, buttons, lock mechanisms, brooches, hinges for chests and jewellery boxes. Small things that held weight. Corenna Hale The matriarch of the family was born to a family of fine metalworkers on the western fringes,…

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Willa Foss
Willa is a gentle and joyful soul, with embers in her heart and soft light in her eyes. Childhood Willa carried the sun in her hair. On a typical day she would be stuck with duckweed, shoeless, trailing treasure in her pockets. She tried to keep a frog in the kettle once. She always had…

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Blake Arlen
Blake Arlen, born of the quietly formidable Charlotte Arlen and the wayward herbmaster Tauren Foss, grew into a figure of quiet rigour within the House of Coin. Unlike their father, Blake prized clarity over instinct, precision over improvisation. They held to systems like a vine to trellis — finding form and structure not only reassuring,…

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Charlotte Arlen
Charlotte Arlen, of the Tellerwick Arlens, built her life on the quiet dignity of order. From the age of 20, she rose through the regional offices of the House of Coin with steady hands and sharper instincts — first as an apprentice, then soon appointed to lead boundary adjudications and property charter inspections across the…

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Sorrel Foss
Sorrel was named for the red-veined leaf — and she lived it: green through and through, but with a heart that blushed through everything she did. Her presence was like warm bread and birdsong. She wore love openly and simply, without needing thanks or grandeur. She wore bold, grounded colours: burgundy, ochre, deep green, black.…

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Harn Foss
Thin and drawn, with lank, chin-length hair that hangs damp with the weather or sweat, he carries the smell of dried leaves and something slightly metallic. His sallow skin is mottled with liver spots, and one dark mole near his cheek stands out like a smudge. One of his eyes is clouded and pale—the other…


