Deborah was born in the land of the East Saxon’s where old gods slumber beneath the concrete and the sea is always calling. Living with such promising magic meant Deborah planned to be a witch when she grew up. She is still waiting to feel grown up and to find a portal to the Kingdom of Lancre.


Still searching between worlds allows Deborah to stray from the path and she can get lost in ancient forests for days on end. These adventures go some way to satisfying her curiosity and help her to avoid the housework. This absence of domesticity, along with her lack of blondeness, have convinced Deborah that she is not supposed to be a fairy tale heroine. She lives in hope that one day she will be wicked enough to have minions that do the housework for her.

Deborah’s diet consists of coffee, kisses and cake. She dreams of finding a pair of trousers that will actually fit both her waist, hips and the length of her inside leg. Being an East Saxon means she is both statuesque and has an almost supernatural ability to drink real ale. She is proficient in avoiding the Hangover Fairies.

Deborah constantly intends to go swimming, and sometimes actually makes it. During these periods of submersion it’s clear that her ancestors were mermaids. It would certainly explain how Deborah spends so long in the bath. Especially when there is vacuuming to be done: it’s impossible to vacuum when wearing fins.

Having lost her heart south of the River Thames, Deborah now lives with a green fingered wizard who she is trying to persuade to buy a kitten (black, obviously.)


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