Alorra’s surname was given her on her first venture into the light of day. So bright was her fine golden fur that when the sun shone upon it, it was as if the Rat was a living statue of molten gold. Even those of other races, especially elves, appreciate Alorra’s curious beauty.

     As she grew up, Alorra’s open and tender heart was plain for all to see. She developed a deep love of animals, and found an uncanny talent for nursing them to health. A popular playmate and an excellent swimmer, Alorra was always at the center of the harmless revelries of her childhood friends. Very little seemed to anger or upset her, and Alorra’s manner was thought by some to be naturally serene.

     The real reason why the young Rat was so sweet was that little ugliness or strife was allowed to intrude upon her life. Though hale by human standards, Alorra was unusually slim and frail for a Rat, and many went out of her way to protect her. Most of the Rats considered her destined for a purely contemplative and spiritual life, and they allowed little to tarnish her soul. But a wizened few believed this treatment to be a grave mistake. If the common wisdom were wrong, Alorra would never truly grow up.

     But it was Alorra herself who realized that she couldn’t remain a child forever, and her compassion for the sick and injured gently nudged her towards the side of Illovia the Healer. But it wasn't easy: her first ministrations to her very first combat victim proved hopeless. This first encounter with violent death nearly broke her, and Alorra was one step away from leaving the Order before she had truly joined it. Only her acceptance of the brutalities of life kept her from discarding the white-and-yellow vestments of an Illovian acolyte.

     Still, for a time, Alorra preserved the most endearing traits from her youth. Even after her ordination, Alorra retained her sense of wonder about the world, and everything she touched seemed to come alive. Strangers who met her for the first time rarely failed to take the Rat into their hearts; one who met her during this period commented that Alorra was "a summer’s breeze in a dark, unhappy forest."

     Throughout much of her youth, Alorra harbored a secret pain: her unrequited love for an older Rat named Charles Sworddance. Though he was just as taken with her sweet and gentle nature as the rest of the Rats, Charles wasn’t about to fall in love with a child. He openly avoided Alorra, and her unwanted affections only fueled his constant wanderings. Even after Alorra was ordained—and Charles could admit that he was a little fond of her—he couldn’t see how she could possibly fit in with his rough-and-tumble lifestyle.

     But the time came when Charles couldn’t hide any longer. Some five decades ago, Charles was a passenger aboard the legendary caravel Hunter’s Moon, bound on a voyage nearly without precedent: the crossing of an entire ocean to visit a virtually unknown continent, a land known to a tiny few as "Dass". Far beyond the point of no return, Alorra was discovered sealed in a crate, deep in a magical sleep. She was no ordinary stowaway, but rather had been smuggled aboard by her Order on an assignment of great importance. Charles was deeply worried: the passengers and crew were all highly experienced adventurers, experts in their fields. How could Alorra, barely out of the seminary, hope to survive?

     But survive she did, fighting alongside her new friends, sharing their hardships and triumphs. She learned the harsh law of kill or be killed, but through it all, she refused to be anything less than the Alorra of old whenever she could. Charles was entranced by the new Alorra taking shape before his eyes...and, in an idyllic tropical setting, he married the Rat he once had so often avoided.

     Alorra’s struggle to retain her gentle personality was nearly lost when the Hunter’s Moon weighed anchor at Dass, for the vessel arrived just in time to participate in the five-year bloodletting that gave birth to the Second Empire. Alorra saw little glory in the War of Restoration, for at its end, much of the continent was laid waste. It was Alorra who blundered into the plans of Tyrian Dweomermist to enslave the whole of Dass for the Overlord of the Pits, making the young Rat a figure of Dassian legend. Alorra cared nothing for this hero worship, for the conflict had stretched her faith to the limit.

     With the war over and Dweomermist defeated, Alorra was on the edge of emotional collapse. Only Charles’s steadfast love held her spirit and perhaps her sanity together. The voyage home was both physically and emotionally taxing, especially with the exiled Dweomermist aboard, but Alorra used the time to heal her spiritual scars as best she could.

     The Alorra that came home to Miren was a changed soul, and to many, not for the better. Though hardly vanished altogether, the Rat’s once-radiant love of life had been noticeably dampened. Not only had she become reserved and introspective, Alorra also suffered (and continues to suffer) from recurring flashbacks and bouts of post-traumatic stress, but with her husband’s help, these spasms are occurring less and less frequently.

     Conversely, her sensitivity, drive, and skill in treating the sick and injured has never been greater; the war gave her more practical experience in her craft than any of her Order now living in Miren. Her recent confirmation as Grace of the Sun was the proudest day of her life...but she spent that evening in prayer for the souls of the Dassians lost in the war.

     In the aftermath of the Rending, Alorra and Charles volunteered to voyage to Dass once again—this time, to help the Rattish exiles build new lives in an unknown land. The sudden reappearance of two of the Restoration War’s greatest heroes has done much to create sympathy for their wayward fellows. The exiles’ warm acceptance into Dassian society has given Alorra cause for hope, but she and her husband have delayed their return to Miren until they are sure that they can build a future of their own.

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