Character Backstories

Pyrrha Caelestis Fralantia was born the first daughter of the king, and his first wife Sofiya Redcastle. Sofiya was a powerful witch of noble blood. From almost as soon as she could walk, Pyrrha was educated both by her mother and a plethora of tutors in the art of magic. She showed a natural aptitude for most of her studies, but seemed to have next to no ability in certain fields of magic. Her strengths always lay in the manipulation of the natural world and the elements, but talent in the more esoteric fields of enchantment and the like eluded her.

One summer, while travelling to a far away magical institution with her mother, they were ambushed by what initially appeared to be bandits. However, they fought with unusual ferocity, and using elemental magic. As it turned out, their caravan had been caught in the middle of a crossfire between a cult of Elemental Evil and a druid circle. Pyrrha's mother was slain in front of her, and in an act of rage unleashed a huge fit of elemental power. Flames erupted from her hands, the earth itself shook and rose up to seize the attackers, frost spread over their skin, and buffeting squalls threw the cultists off their feet. Many of the cultists died, and those that remained were incapacitated or wounded, and were made short work of by the druids.

Seeing both her potential, and her danger were her abilities not tempered, the druids took her in for a short time. She was inducted into their circle, and little by little, her grief subsided and she learned to command greater control ofer her powers. It was from the druids that she learned her great patience and wisdom, lest she hurt others in a fit of rage. After winter had passed, she returned home to the king, who had thought her dead. She was welcomed with open arms, but many eyed her with suspicion as she talked of animal spirits and nature guardians. Her father sequestered her away from courtly affairs, to her dismay. She once again filled her time with studies, frequently requesting obscure tomes and treatises on natural phenomena and the Old Faith.

Occasionally, she heard whispers around the castle of political goings-on. On one such an occasion, she heard of adventurers being contracted by her father to investigate an unusual phenomenon. She pleaded with him to allow her to help, but he refused. But Pyrrha, would not be dissuaded...

Aetoris knew he was promised to the elvish armies from the earliest moment he could remember. The third son of a sage and a soldier, he never really showed the innate magical talents of his elder sisters. Instead, he took to the blade and the destructive dance of battle like his mother. He trained for years at her elbow while she was home, training with the garrison when she was afield. When he took his adult name around his 114th birthday, he enlisted in the army, training with the scouts. His footsteps were lighter than his compatriots and he developed a reputation as a keen observer and fleet-footed messenger.

It was on one of his forward observation missions near his 200th year that he found himself extended slightly too far, and he was encircled. Convinced he was going to be captured and tortured by the orcish horde he'd been spying on, he quietly said his prayers to any gods that would listen. Whether it was the gods or dumb luck, the answer came in the form of a dwarven battlerager. Eyes wild in the throes of his rage, he tore into the wall of closing orcs like a force of nature, leaving limbs and torrents of blood in his wake. In a flash of clarity, he looked towards Aetoris and implored him Run lad. Run far and disappear now. Unsure why or how the dwarf came to his aid in that moment, he didn't care. He took flight through the woods, never looking back as the dwarf's battlesong cried out over the clash of steel. To this day, Aetoris has tried to find some word or kin of this battlerager that he may repay the life debt he now owes, but to no luck.

It was on this flight that Aetoris stumbled into Oma Salie. The then young forest gnome was out gathering herbs when he literally ran into her. Taking a tumble, he meant to pop up and keep going, only to be met with a sharp rap on his head from her gnarled walking cane. Rubbing his head, he looked up at her a bit sheepishly. Sorry miss, m'ame's Aetoris. Let me help pick up that which you dropped because of my clumsiness. he offered, picking up the delicate plants gently, knowing all too well the importance of many of the plants. An instant friendship was formed as they discussed the flora in the area, the orcish horde driven out of his mind in the serenity of the little grove.

Over the next almost 200 years, the two maintained a close friendship whenever Aetoris was able to take leave from the army. Some hundred years into their friendship, Aetoris took his final leave from the elvish forces, turning his skills more towards private scouting and survival guidance activities. The move gave him far more time to spend with Oma Salie, learning more of the ways of the plants from her.

(I'll let ae_dd fill in more about the backstory between these two and I'll have more snippets of his past as we go on.)

Llenadwyn was born a sickly child. Her father, brother to the king himself, hired the best physicians in the kingdom to tend to her, but they could only treat her symptoms. "Sometimes things just go wrong," they said. Other, darker whispers claimed that it was her father's fault for marrying someone of elven blood.

Her childhood was difficult. While other children ran and played, she watched from her room in the castle. When balls were put on in the grand hall, she could not join in the dancing for fear that her weak legs would give out. Most of her time was spent resting, reading, and dreaming, though she sometimes had visits from friends and family (Maybe Pyrrha, since they're cousins?). And the physicians, of course.

Her father had little time to spend with her, busy as he was helping his brother with duties in the kingdom, but every day he would come by to read poetry with her. Sometimes he even brought poems written by her mother before she had left - secret words written in Elvish, flowing and beautiful in both sound and script.

One day, when Llenadwyn was thirteen years old, an Elvish dignitary came to the castle. There were the usual whispers and glances full of suspicion directed his way, but he took it all in stride, smiling and chatting. That night there was a ball, and Llenadwyn again sat quietly at her father's side while the other nobles danced across the floor. To everyone's surprise, the elf approached and with an extended hand invited her to dance. Nearby people gasped, and Llenadwyn looked away in embarrassment as her father explained her condition.

The elf ignored all others in the room and knelt down to catch Llenadwyn's eye. A small flame appeared in his hand, flickering brightly. In Elvish he whispered, "Look at this spark. It does not care who is watching; it dances anyway." Then he gently took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

Anticipation, excitement, and energy like never before filled the young girl, and she stood up on legs that did not shake in the least. People stared and jaws dropped as Llenadwyn danced, and though she had never before performed the intricate movements her every step was guided by joy and grace. After a few minutes, the elf was replaced by her father, who with tears in his eyes danced with his daughter for the first time.

When the ball ended hours later, the elf was nowhere to be found. Rumors, however, spread like wildfire. The king's niece, apparently healed of her crippling illness by a strange elf... Some people spoke of the event as a miracle, but others harbored more sinister suspicions.

A week later, Llenadwyn's father was attacked and killed in his chambers. The assassin was hung, but not before confessing that he had been paid by a group of people who had no interest in bowing to royalty that was influenced by Elvish magic.

Fearing for her safety, Llenadwyn fled the kingdom to seek refuge with her mother's people. It was there she learned the truth of the gift she had been given by Corellon, God of the Elves, himself: to join his elite guard.

She was taken to a sacred realm of music, art, and beauty to be trained as a warrior and guardian. For all the wonder of the place and the lessons she received from powerful creatures both fey and celestial, there were real dangers to be overcome. She learned the use of music and magic, of weapons and war. She was given a new name: Tinwë, the Elvish word for 'spark'.

Though she excelled at learning all her mentors taught her, Tinwë was instructed to return to the kingdom of her birth. The relationship between the human and elf races was still strained, but it was hoped that she could act as an intermediary between them. Upon arrival at the castle, she offered her services to her uncle, the king, for anything he might need, as a gesture of goodwill from the Elvish people. Not sure what to do with his long-lost niece, he asked her to look into some troubles of a southern frontier city.

The Sohl family is a minor nobility in a somewhat influential county of a mighty kingdom. Their rank gives them privilege, but their traditions keep them honest and they treat tier subjects well. The family fortune meant that Fah’lin and her older sister rarely wanted for anything that wasn’t to outlandish.

Fah’lin was raised to serve her future husband, but had a wild streak in her that endeared her to father, but utterly frustrated her mother. Lucky for the young girl, her sister was more inclined to follow along with her parent’s wishes and was betrothed at a young age to a distant cousin who was handsome and gentle to suit the older daughter’s tastes. This left Fah’lin the time to explore her interests and kept her mother from interfering too much.

Fah’lin sought the life of an adventurer, and while not really cut out for the life, she charmed and persuaded her way to it. Her first adventure found her working at a site that had been uncovered by an earthquake. While ‘documenting’ some relics in an ancient temple, Fah’lin and four others were trapped by a cave in. One of their number was badly wounded. They all sough to find a way out but it seemed hopeless.

Then they heard the voice of Omlelop, an ancient being form beyond the stars. Through an obelisk in the room with them, it could see into their world. He saw the dying man and was intrigued, because death was not a subject it had any knowledge of. It offered escape if the group would show him death. At first everyone refused, but as the hours wore on and no help came, things turned desperate. The man, Jorhi, whispered to Fah’lin that he was ready to die, saw it as inevitable even if help came. If someone didn’t take Omlelop’s offer they might all be trapped forever, Jorhi reasoned. In the end Fah’lin could not deny his logic and accepted Omlelop’s deal. She ended Jorhi’s life at the base of the obelisk so that the Old One could learn what it was to be mortal. Then filled with its power the half-elf could blast her way back to an open tunnel and free the survivors.

Returning home, Fah’lin brought the other survivors with her and found them positions in her household. As time passed, they couldn’t shake the feeling that they owed Omlelop their lives. Through Fah’lin’s charisma and connections the group has been traveling the kingdom searching for a new knowledge to satiate their patron’s appetite.

Lajakadez Kuz means Stoneblood Slave in orcish. In the Dajdok (moon) tribe, born of an Orog mother and a Goliath taken in a raid. He never had the chance to know his father since he was killed before his birth. His mother left him with the weakests of the clan when she saw he wouldn't be a true orc... The first months were spent fighting the other half-orcs for scraps of food. He quickly became the largest of his group, earning him a position as a grunt against the other humanoid tribes. The next years, he learned fight. Killing scores of kobolds, goblins,bugbears, other orcs and even a few ogres. By his 22nd birthmoon, he was one of the best warrior of his tribe then, a new war chief asserted his rulership. An oni named Raz Lag (Eater of babies). Raz Lag wasn't satisfied with the current standing of the Dajdok tribe and decided to raid a human village, craving the flesh of human babies. During the raid, Kuz was the one who came upon the hiding kids of the village... He had never seen such defenseless creatures, devoid of any aggressive nature contrary to the goblin or kobold young ones that tried to bite you from birth. He realized, even if he didn't understand, that not only he could not kill them, it would not be right to leave them to Raz Laz. Without even realizing it, he turn around and started killing his own kin, defending those humans with his life. On that day, Kuz killed a good portion of his tribe, even wounding Raz Laz enough for him to retreat, leaving him almost dead. The humans of this village who could have left him to die, decided to nurse him back to health. He left when the King's soldiers arrived. For months, he hunted his own kin, not satisfied until he brought back the severed head of Raz Laz to the soldiers that stayed back to rebuild the village. He joined them for a time learning the common tongue from them and helping in the process. When the soldiers went back to the capital, Kuz joinned them. In found a place for himself in the Colosseum of Champions, going out with groups of adventurers from time to time, looking for bigger challenges every time. In the last years, he has become known as Hulk(Green Champion), Champion of the Kingdom. As such, in addition to his adventuring, he has served as bodyguard to the royal family, who has always treated him with kindness, when they visit other countries. Unknown to most but his closest friends, almost all his earnings go to a local orphanage, where he likes to go often to play with the kids, leaving himself get swarmed by laughting kids. It's during one of those times, that he received the King's summon....

Baerkohm Frostbeard was born like most dwarves in the world: in the deep dark of a mountain fortress replete with the sounds of hammers on anvils and searing forges melting the precious ores from the land into ingots of their trade. At that time, he was the fourth son of Dendar and Beckah Forgemaul, called Baer Forgemaul. His father was a smith of low ranking and his mother was a passable healer from a clan of no importance. At an early age, it became painfully obvious that the boy wasn't fit to train as a smith. His physique was one of a slender build, damn near gnomish. His father was disgusted with him, but continued to try molding his son like he did iron: force and pressure. He took the small child out of the mountain on a quick trade route when he was about eight years old, determined to show him how the dwarven crafts were respected throughout the world. As they trundled along the grasslands on their way to whichever far-flung city was set to buy the dwarven goods, they stopped for the night, setting up camp near a small wooded area.

Dendar fell deep into his cups, swilling pint after pint of heady ale. It didn't take long before he was nothing but a drunken rambling fool. When he stumbled into the tent where his son sat up reading a book he had spirited away from somewhere, it was enough to set his anger into a towering inferno. He slapped the book out of his hands, and followed it with a stroke across the boy's face. When the tears sprang to his eyes, Dendar slapped him again, knocking the boy unconscious. He scooped him up over his shoulder and made a run for the woods. Finding a small cave, he put the boy down and went back to camp, passing out. When he woke the next morning, he didn't remember any of the violence from the previous night. When he saw that the boy was gone, he assumed he had run off and continued his trek.

When Baer woke up, he was terrified and awestruck. He hadn't ever really seen trees like those that were outside the small cave. his terror was further heightened when the ominous growling of an alpha wolf filled the cave behind him. As the lithe creature advanced on him, a second wolf stepped in between them and growled back at the alpha. The female that protected him apparently saw something in the small dwarf and adopted him as a cub of her own.

The next forty years or so passed by and he lived as a wild creature. He learned to hunt next to the wolves, used fire to keep the pack warm. He grew somewhat stronger but mainly wiser and heartier. As the original pack died, and new wolves were born, he looked after them as well. Over and over he did this, attuning himself to the pulse of the land, avoiding population, all but losing his languages. When the pack stopped growing, and the last of his wolf companions died off, he didn't shed a tear. He packed his meager things and left, wandering as far as he could. He found a community of hill dwarves that lived off the land and they took him in, confused but happy to welcome a dwarf to the fold. He slowly learned how to speak again, learned how to brew ale from the simple foragers of the Frostbeard clan, and generally learned that life wasn't always pain and cold and hard. After a relatively short period, only ten years or so, Baer adopted a fully new name as a full member of the clan: Baer Forgemaul was no more, in his place Baerkohm Frostbeard emerged.

While he was out on a solo trip to get more of the herbs the clan needed to make their brew, he got strangely turned around, something that hadn't happened ever before. A strange mist rolled over him and when an uncommonly stiff wind blew it away, he found himself surrounded by three figures in odd garb. A human, an elf, and a gnome. The elf, strangely, was the first to speak.

Brother Frostbeard, we have searched for you for many years. he said in dwarvish.

The three druids explained to him that he was blessed by a nature spirit, and that he had been marked since his birth to serve the land. The spirit marked his soul and saw fit to ensure that Baerkohm underwent all the necessary trials to have a primal appreciation for the power of the world. He struggled with leaving the clan. The druids understood this and traveled with him to the clan's village so he could speak to them. He was expecting them to be sad, to fight him on the leaving. Instead, they rejoiced! The nature spirits saw fit to bless a Frostbeard with a small piece of divinity. They encouraged him to do whatever the druids wanted. Thus was the start of Baerkohm's next chapter.

For forty more years, he studied and toiled, learning the ways of the druids. He learned how to twist his form into that of animals, learned to read and predict the weather, how to summon raw fire from nothingness, how to speak with the plants to learn their secrets. He proved especially adept at harnessing natural magics, enough so that he devoted himself to the circle of the land, drawing strength from the very grasslands he rediscovered his dwarvishness.

At the end of the forty years, as an accomplished druid, his elvish mentor Acarnayth granted him a single branch with a series of mushrooms and leaves and swirled bark. No matter what happened, those plants wouldn't yield, wouldn't die, wouldn't wither. He found that he could channel powerful nature magic through the staff. With these tools in hand, he set to move among the races of the world, learning their ways and ensuring that nature was respected in full balance as their cities grew.

It was during this journey that the strangely appearing desert adventure finds him.

Araaz Syl'a Var'ran was born of an elven male and a human female. His father Adran Daleth Var'ran, an ambassador from the capital of Mela Lenora in the elven kingdom of Erabaen, met his mother, Tessele Evenwood, in the Lyn's Acendance castles gardens and he fell in love with her at first sight. He continued to visit her whenever he traveled to, and after some time, she reciprocated his love. They wed and returned to Mela Lenora. The elves loved his mother for the beauty she brought to their city in the form of exquisite gardens. A year after she came to Mela Lenora, she conceived Araaz. The birth was not a smooth one and his mother remained sickly and bedridden for many years afterward. His father spent every available moment tending to his mother, hiring healers and pleading with physicians to try to cure her malady. He often neglected his duties in order to stay by her side until he was forced to again resume them. It was while he was away on one of these trips that his wife passed away. Araaz, a spindly boy of a mere 15 years of age, had been by her side in his fathers absence and was there when she passed, asleep with his head on the bed and holding his mothers hand. He awoke to her still lifeless body, smiling in quiet repose and, not knowing what was wrong but fearing the worst, he called for help. The healers tended to her body and pronounced her deceased. The next day his father returned and, on hearing the news, went to the garden she loved spending most of her time in when he was away and wept. Araaz went to his father to share in his sorrow and they wept together, his father for the wonder that his wife had been, and Araaz for the mother that he would never fully know.
Araaz, though loved by his parents, was never truly accepted by his fathers people. Especially after his mothers sickly condition after his birth and her subsequent death years later. They loved his mother for the beauty she brought to their city in the form of exquisite gardens. But in their eyes, Araaz was the blight that took away that beauty and they shunned him for it. Araaz didn't understand this growing up and only realized it in his late teens.

At the age of 20, his father decided to send him to a monastery in, in hopes of giving him a happier life. Though reluctant in the beginning, Araaz soon grew to love the discipline and quietness of mind that the training brought. He also helped in the forge and through the combination of training and hrs spent in the forge, he soon grew out of his spindly form into a well muscled and healthy young man. His father visited occasionally to see how Araaz was doing, and though Araaz appreciated the visits and still loved his father, he loved the monastery just as much. Soon after his 2 year of training, he was sent on a pilgrimage to further his understanding of the world (maybe a plot or something later). It was on this pilgrimage that he met his current companions and decided to travel with them on their adventures. He has since been with the current group. He still plans on finishing his pilgrimage, but for the time being he is comfortable staying with them.