Sariel, a raven-haired young half elf with old eyes, rides in the back of the wagon, conserving her energy. She wears ashen, trail-worn clothes resemble those of a soldier's on a rough campaign. Wrapped around her is a cloak that looks like it was once azure blue, but the splendorous colour now only shows through in patches.
Sariel gazes out of a rip in the wagon's canvas cover at the passing countryside.
Interesting to see the Sword Mountains from this side for a change she thought.
She had recently come from the forest of Kryptgarden on the other side, where she had been recruited to fight in her uncle's crusade against goblinkind for the last three years. Though triumphant, her uncle was slain in the final battle, and once again Sariel was all alone in the world.
As her uncle's company disbanded and returned to their families, Sariel felt like she was losing hers. But it wasn't the first time she lost a family, and she moved on.
Die, migrate, or adjust - those were the only three choices in the world, according to her uncle. She wasn't ready to die, and she didn't know how to adjust, so she migrated - north, to Neverwinter, in search of problems you could solve with a sword. Maybe (she dared hope) a new family.
As it turns out, the Rockseekers were in need of swords, and they hired her as a caravan escort. She knew the job well; she did competently and they paid her fairly, but it wasn't enough. That black stain on her soul wasn't going to scrub off escorting mining gear. Yet, the most miraculous thing happened to her: last night Lathander, her father's deity, came to her in a dream and told her of a desecrated shrine deep in goblin territory.
Seek Sister Garaele, in the town of Phandalin, the vision told her.
In the morning, she heard Gundren was mounting another expedition - to Phandalin! Never a believer in conincidences, Sariel signed up immediately.
Are my father's gods watching me? Could this be my chance? But, not wanting to get her hopes up, she downplayed the potential for redemption.
Worst case, you add a few more goblins to your head count, she reasoned soberly.
But although she was certain that killing goblins made the world a better place, deep down she suspected that even if she killed every goblin in the world her soul would still be damned to the Shadowfell.
Last edited January 10, 2018 5:31 am