Post by Deleted on Oct 24, 2013 2:33:11 GMT
These are some example backstories from a D&D game I ran several years ago. The setting was Eberron if anyone is familiar with it. Unfortunately I couldn't find any of my own.
Name: Dartea Alestro
Gender: Female
Race: Half-Elf (Grey)
Age: Thirty Four (Roughly twenty- three in human years.)
Hair: Brown, and short
Height: 5’ 6
Eye Color: Green
Features: Has sharp, noble features. She has a small nose, narrow chin and softer jaw and eyes that seemed to be curious and strong to all things around her. Often, she wears eyeshadow. She is lithe of build, but has a wiry strength to her, and her years of training under the blade show in her posture. She has a look of inquisitiveness and a strong, noble air to her nature, yet she often looks as though she longs for something she has lost. A scar runs underneath her chin, along her neck.
Clothing: Underneath her armor she wears a white ruffled shirt with blue overcoat, along with blue britches and knee-high boots. At her waist, her sword is strapped. The overcoat she wears seems more suited to travel and the rigors of battle than fashionable. She often wears a matching tricorne hat, a last memory of her mother, found floating in the ocean.
Background:
Dartea was born out at sea. Her mother, Streya Alestro, Captain of the Patron’s Blade and one of the greatest explorers whom ever lived, conceived the child through a brief shore-leave fling with a human. Streya had not expected a child but loved Dartea. She loved her career equally as much, however, and decided to leave the child with her grandfather, Starayn, in the Elven capitol of Valenar.
Starayn was a rather enthusiastic and mysterious fellow. Dartea found he had a penchant for historical study, filled with lore and tomes of varied civilizations. Several books even seemed to predate major events in history. Much to Dartea’s surprise, much of his library was also off limits, including the basement, where she imagined a good deal of the collection continued. She never quite understood why she wasn’t allowed within.
Every now and again, her mother would swing ashore to visit her daughter, the sight of the glorious banner of The Patron’s Blade whipping in the wind to signal her arrival at port. Streya would excite Dartea with stories abroad, of locales and amazing places. Coupled with her grandfather’s lore and knowledge of the world, Dartea grew an appetite for adventure, herself. In between sessions at school and her grandfather’s stories, she grew a deep fondness for both her grandfather and her mother.
Life in Valenar was strange. As a half-breed, she was never quite accepted by her peers. She managed to make friends, but more enemies amongst her schoolyard chums than anything. She was ridiculed for human parentage, or simultaneously pitied by the few schoolmates she did manage to make. Dartea was an outsider, and it was hard to fight that designation.
Around the age of sixteen, (Twelve in human years) The Patron’s Blade made its appearance at port. It was night when Streya had arrived, looking rather excited and yet forlorn. She smiled fondly to Starayn and explained in complex terms that she would be on a six month long business trip for house Cannith. She promised Dartea and Starayn that she would be gone for six months and no longer. Leaving a kiss upon Dartea’s forehead, Streya left yet again on her life of adventure.
Six months passed into eight months. Eight months stretched into a year. A year stretched into a year and six months. There was no news of either life or death. Starayn tried to get into contact with house Cannith, who claimed the situation was well in order, but both members of the household were fearful. Dartea fell into a depression over the absence of her mother.
Finally, after two whole years since the night she had left, Streya made an appearance, stepping in through the door. She had little to say to any of them, only that matters of business would mean she would be leaving almost immediately. For one night she stayed, giving instructions and a tome to Starayn that she had come upon on her voyages. Starayn did not ask many questions or press the issue. He merely requested that she say goodbye to her daughter before she left.
Dartea was ecstatic to see her mother and torn to pieces to hear of her leaving again. Streya promised it would not be as long. As a parting gift, Streya gave her a necklace, one Dartea had never seen before. A jewel resembling a tear that shimmered in the light was embedded in the necklace. Streya told her daughter that the stone was a very special one, and made her promise to wear it always, and keep it safe. With the same parting kiss on her forehead, a warm embrace and tears of sadness, she bid farewell, yet again. It would be the last time.
Two months later, a representative from House Cannith appeared. Starayn argued with him at the doorstep. He looked torn and angered. The man seemed to hand something to Starayn during the conversation, but after the man left Starayn said it was merely a solicitor. He then hurried to put away the object he had received, to hide it from his granddaughter lest she see it: Streya’s tricorne hat. He never explained to Dartea what had happened and immediately began training her in the ways of a strange new fighting style he called, “The Flow.” All talks of Dartea’s mother were swept aside.
Dartea spent the years afterward in school, training and reading in the library. Her thirst for knowing what had happened to her mother was no mystery. She knew that Starayn was hiding something. She finally and fiercely confronted him on the matter. Standing up to his authority she demanded to know what had happened to her mother. Starayn could not hide it any longer, and with regretful pain, he admitted the identity of the man who visited. Her mother had died out at sea. Her mother’s hat was given to Dartea as a gift. Even still, Starayn never said the reason her mother died. He claimed not to know. Dartea never forgave him for keeping the knowledge from her for so long.
Dartea spent the last of her teenage years training, becoming rather adept at the blade, and per the teachings of her grandfather, she was equally competent in magic as well. She spent her years learning more about the world around her. Her grandfather finally opened up the hidden parts of the library, letting her drink in the knowledge of civilizations long lost. Dartea felt that by learning about history, the world, and the seas, she would get closer to her mother.
As required by the military, Dartea joined Valenar’s fighting forces at the age of twenty-two for her ten year service. It was a welcome relief, as she was free of her grandfather. Though she did not hate him, she was unable to forgive how he hid her mother’s death for so long.
She began adopting the name “Northwind” in her military circles. Her unit did not argue and affectionately referred to her as such. Dartea was exceptional in the field. Her mastery of the blade increased, and her continued study of her discipline made her a unique combatant on the field. Due to losses on the battlefront, she received her chance at leading her clan, eventually receiving commendations by her superiors for excellent performance. She even managed to rescue one of her fellow officers and their entire regimen on a skirmish along the border.
Using her reputation as a field commander, she transferred and spent the years following her end of service escorting interested merchants and parties on expeditions as a bodyguard. Valenar’s government received many historical pieces and treasures under her watchful eye. Following these operations, (Which were Dartea’s fondest six months in her military career,) she landed a job with Valenar’s government to teach younger and fresher recruits her fighting art, as it was seen as a highly effective force on the battlefront.
Then one day, she received a letter…
__________________________________________________________________
Background
I was…born an unnamed machine, a construct given life, a solider born and breed. The perfect tool of destruction birthed in war, christened in blood and taught the lessons of life on the march.
I have traces my time of creation to approximately 966 YK 30 years before the end of the last war, within the first year of Warforge’s being made for the war. I was stationed in Cyre the city of my creation for the express purpose of protecting the citizenry. This assignment however was short lived after only a few month I was sent out to skirmishes along the Thrane border, and from there into the front lines of battles all along Breland, Zilargo, Dargun, Valenar and even deep into the Talenta Plains. Within my first decade I had distinguished myself among my unit and was given the rank of Sergeant, and command of my own unit of Warforged.
Within another 10 years after a string of successful campaigns I was granted the rank of Lieutenant the highest rank any warfoged had yet reached with in the armies and I was only the second to reach it. My success in battle became such that on occasion the mere appearance of my units standard (a Great axe over a Fullblade) would change the tactics of my opponent, and bolster the moral of my allies.
This was a good time for me I had allies and enemies and each day brought the promise of battle against worthy opponents I was satisfied. It is hard to express my emotion for those years because of I have learned what emotion is and it is even harder to explain the emotions I was feeling as I was just learning what emotion was myself. I can say I felt a bond of camaraderie with all of Cyre’s soldiers, warforged and flesh alike. But there were few people I treated as were friends. Two in particular I was very close with.
A warforged artificer who was given the nickname Tink and General Luis Dock of the Cyrian armed forces. When I meet General Luis he was the sergeant of the first unit I was assigned to on the field. He was the first person I ever saw treat warforged as living things…with respect. Tink was also in the same unit, he was as new as I was so we were assigned positions close to each other on the front line. After our units first few engagements in which sergeant Luis ended up behind enemy lines and Tink and I went out to him and we three ended up fighting side by side till the enemy pulled back. I t became a common joke around our camp “Sarge can always run right into heaviest shit cause Tink and Corp will always drag him out breathing”.
As Luis moved up in the ranks he would always recommend me for a promotion (and transfer to his command) and if it was approved I’d request Tink come with me. From then we were nigh inseparable, even though Tink never rose above sergeant and Luis became a General. In fact as soon as Luis was given General bars he appointed my unit as his personal guards when he was on the field. The last two decades of the war were the happiest times of my life.
They however did not last. While warfoged did not need down time every six months the home guard unit of warforged would get rotated out into the field, and replaced with a front line unit. In the summer of 994 my unit was scheduled to be replace the current home guards. Luis however realized this would be a perfect opportunity for us to go off and adventure on our own for a while. I believe the exact term he used was “a male… machine bonding experience”. And as a General with proper planning it could be arranged.
After a few days of planning and prepping we finalized the plan. As soon as we arrived in Cyre I would be sent out to a minor member of the royal family in Breland with an “important message.” However the information in the “message” is incorrect and since I am a member of his personal guard General Luis would have no choice but to rush after me himself with a token force (of all friends) for protection. I would be waiting a few miles within the Breland border and we would have approximately three weeks to do with as we saw fit.
Everything was going according to plan up till the morning before the rendezvous I was heading to the appointed meeting place a few miles closer to the border when a huge light started from as far into Cyre as I could see, preceded by a huge sound wave. I walked to the appointed meeting place a small hillock and stood there unmoving waiting, hoping but no one showed up. On the morning of the third day I had been waiting I headed into Cyre to find my friends. After approximately two weeks of searching, finding all sorts of new fauna, and vicious new creatures I managed to make my way out with no more information on my friends.
My solo investigation failing horribly I decided to head to Breland where I knew at least one member of the royal family Prince Oargev ir’Wynarn was serving as ambassador. However less than two days into my travels I came across a group of Cyran farmers who told of an odd group moving along the border, tow Warfoged and a shifter all bearing military insignia. My first thought was could it be. I immediately ran off in the direction they were seen running night and day non stop, after little over a day and a half I crested a hill and saw Tink, Big Barda and Geronimo sitting by a fire near the border.
I could barely contain my feelings and for a moment I hoped in spite of all I had seen Luis was alive, but the look on Geronimo's face when I asked killed all hope of that. Luis’s wife had heard he was coming to the capital and went there to surprise him. He didn’t find out about this until he was ready to head out so he sent Tink, Big Barda & Geronimo out ahead and went back to spend the night with his wife. They moved quickly hoping to get to the rendezvous before I did to inform me of the new developments, and also hoping to surprise me and have a good laugh at my expense. Geronimo lead them out of Cyre’s borders south of the rendezvous point and started the group moving silently, downwind towards the appointed spot when they say the flash from Cyre. Not knowing what to do Barda and Tink refused to move for over a week until Geronimo could convince them it would be more effective to scout along the border. Deciding to combine both ideas we moved along the border looking for signs of any survivors till were almost at Thrane then cut southwestward into Breland to head to Wroat. During the following week we came across many displaced farmers and peasants whom we directed to Wroat hoping the Breland government was still friendly. Also during that time we heard stories of people being occasionally attacked by strange creatures coming from Cyre, creatures none of us had ever seen before. During these days Tink, Barda and I would head out two hours before sunrise, with Barda taking point and leaving not so obvious tracks for Geronimo to follow. By midday Geronimo would have caught up and take up point position and Barda would start to fall back, to serve as rear guard and to attempt to forage provisions. By sunset Tink and I would reach the spot Geronimo selected for camp and begin setting up while he kept watch. Once camp was set he would go take a nap and we ‘d keep watch till Barda showed up with, and prepared diner. Then we wake him he would eat and we would spend a few hours talking. Those nights we would speak of everything past, present, and what the future holds. And I would tell them what Cyre looked like now, the monsters and undead, the undecaying bodies and the undead.
By time we reached Wroat Prince Oargev ir’Wynarn was getting ready to move our people to the land Breland had given us to build settlements for all the surviving Cyreans. But he immediately authorized an investigative mission into the Mournland, with me leading and Geronimo and Tink as my seconds. This was the first and possibly the most informative mission, as its where after a particularly vicious battle (our first) we learned healing magic and items of no kind worked within the fog border. With most of the team specializing in magical analysis and investigation not combat magic’s, I had a difficult time getting most of us out with only one causality, who we buried. She did not however stay dead and attacked us the following night, she had to be dismembered and burned to finally stop moving. By time we made it out the fog and back to Breland everyone had gained a new respect for the dangers of the Mournland.
For the next year the four of us lead many more missions into the Mournland, until “the corruption” of the place started getting to Geronimo and he was given permission to leave and return to his village in the Eldeen Reaches. Big Barda as well was becoming disheartened so the next year when the Treaty of Thronehold was signed and all warfoged we freed and the Cyrean militia asked us all to re enlist she gracefully declined and left to take a position in the Brelish army at the floating fortress of Argonth. I however felt I couldn’t reenlist until I had found Luis’s remains, much to the disappointment of most of the Mournland teams. As I had the most successful record, and the least losses of all the unit leaders. I was given a few days to set my affairs in order before I was to leave the militia barracks.
The night after I announced I was not reenlisting a messenger came to my palate and informed me the Prince wished to speak with me. That night I had along discuss with Prince Wynarn and we reached a compromise I would be allowed to search for Luis’s body for two weeks twice a year and I would be allowed to take up to a six man fully provisioned unit. In return I accepted a special position that gave me the equivalent rank of General answerable only to the Prince himself. I would be in charge of reclaiming Cyrean artifacts and investigating the cause of the explosion by any means necessary. I was to select any people I needed to help accomplish these goals in either official or unofficial capacities. Short of murder or any action damaging to Cyre’s precarious (almost nonexistent) political position I was given full authorization.
Within the next two years I had gather and trained small teams to officially enter the Mournland borders and left the scheduling and day to day to my second in command Tink. The Black Pit in Breland’s black market, Ikar’s Salvage and a few others also unofficially knew me as well as more reputable dealers of had to come by artifacts.
________________________________________________________________________________
Name: Drifter Claw
Age: 34 Eyes: Dark Brown
Height: 6’4” Hair/Fur: Dark Brown/Black/ Grizzled
Weight: 285 lbs Skin: Tan
Occupation: Assistant to the Wardens of the Wood.
The character himself is a brooding loner, but not a bad guy. He’s caught between being a tame animal and being a wild human, never fitting completely in to one kind of civilization or the other. His story is that of a war hero who lost everything in the war, and disappeared into the background, working in shadows behind the scenes. Truly, Drifter Claw cares for his people.
The son of the great general Great Claw was born into the last portion of the Last War. Great Claw had lost his father to the war.and for the most part was raised by the war. As such, even when Drifter Claw was too young for the war, he was being raised by it as well. When Drifter Claw was old enough, he entered it.
Drifter’s father was distant and abusive, sometimes stranding his son in the middle of a forest with no warning, leaving him to fend for himself. Drifter had managed to survive and grew used to this exercise, as well as the others. Drifter’s father was rough and only grew moreso as Drifter got older. He even slashed Drifter across the face leaving a scar. Years of brutal and harsh training had made Drifter more than suitable for battle, however, his ability to properly express emotion was underdeveloped.
The lack of love and affectionate displays from his father helped make Drifter cold, and his mother could not make up for his father. Drifter Claw developed a drifter complex. In order to cope with his emotions and thoughts, he learned to wander, filling his mind with new sensory input and concentrating on his surroundings. He frequently drifted in and out of different areas, and this even became his fighting tactic in the Last War. He would drift randomly into or near the areas of enemy encampments and formations, striking quickly and ferociously, then retreating leaving the enemy confused and injured.
In the war, Drifter Claw started out as a simple scout and earned his way up the ranks. To avoid nepotism, his father had him purposely start at one of the lowest ranks possible, but Drifter proved he was the great general’s son, quickly climbing his way up the ranks to Sergeant Major. Drifter was not the most charismatic of people, but he led through sheer might and reputation. His deeds became known and he was admired. His deeds were demonstrated and he was followed. Self-assured in his ability to fight, and fearless in appearance, Drifter Claw grew in popularity with his own people, as well as the enemy. Soon, the enemies were afraid to enter the Towering Woods. The many armaments of their soldiers were strung around trees and littered among the ground in plain sight. The number of armaments grew steadily, and the morale of the enemy dropped with the same consistency.
Drifter Claw became a hero to his people, but his motivation was not to be a hero, nor to simply survive and come out on top. It was to make his father proud of him.
The last bit of Aundair soldiers was fought off yet again by Drifter Claw and other warriors of the Eldeen Reaches. The Aundair invasions were over, and Drifter’s duties as Sergeant Major were no longer required. Knowing this, Drifter veutured into the mountains of the Eldeen Reaches, where he made his home in a cave. He gave his comrade Shadow Leaf knowledge of his location. Should the Wardens of the Wood need Drifter Claw again, they would know where to find him….
__________________________________________________________________
Jasper: “Master Nicholas?”
“Master Nicholas”
“NICHOLAS!”
Nicholas’ mind snapped back to where he was and he blurted out
“King-Galifar-the-first-united-Khorvair-and-establish-the-five-nations:-Aundair-Breland-Cyre-Karrnath-and-Thrane.”
Nicholas gaze swung from the tower’s window to his tutor who was glaring at him from across the classroom. A usually jovial man with long wavy brown hair and a sour expression on his face walk over to Nicholas’ desk. Taking the nearest chair he sat down and said:
Jasper: “Master Nicholas, I finished discussing the founding of the Five Nations nearly ten minutes ago. I was asking your opinion on how the appearance of the Silver Flame affected the development of Thrane. Now if you are in the middle of something more important I will wait.”
Nicholas: “Don’t be cross with me Jasper, we have been at this for three hours. I am sorry if my mind wandered a little.”
Jasper: “It is ‘do not”, never ‘don’t’. Remember how you say things can be more important than what you actually say. Whilst I am reminding you of things do not forget who you are. You are the son of Alderann, a dragonmarked heir of House Deneith.”
Nicholas: “Jasper, it is just thou and I here can we not relax this just a tad? My sister and the others will be back soon and I am enjoying the break”
Jasper: “You cannot take a break from life Master Nicholas. You will be going to Wynarn University in one harvest’s time. It is my job to have you ready for that and your début ball come winter. This is a crucial stage in your life, much weighs on the impression you make on your house and how your are received by the aristocracy.”
Nicholas: “I know, I know. I just hate all the plots and intrigue. All of it is just so...false. It is everything that I hate about my sister.”
Jasper: “Your sister might be a handful but she is not a bad person.”
Nicholas: “She is an expert a putting up facades. Making you think or feel whatever she wants you to. It all some kind of game to her.”
Jasper: “Well, then you a master of understanding, sympathy, and understanding. You might not like Carmen’s tactics but you are playing the same game. If the two of you ever put your differences aside it would be scary what you could accomplish. Do you realize that you cause your own problems?”
Nicholas: “Huh?”
Jasper: “Nicholas, you go out of your way to expose your sister at every turn, to uncover and reveal what is unknown. You have a hard time letting things go.”
Nicholas: “Um, ah...that is not true.”
Jasper: *stares * “Nicholas”
Nicholas: “well okay, maybe a little but…”
Jasper: “No buts. Do not try to respond now, live with the thought.”
(a short pause)
Jasper: “Now Nicholas you were right, we have been at this for some time. Answer my question on the effects of the Silver Flame on Thrane and then we get something to eat.
Nicholas: * Nicholas scratches his chest* “Ah Jasper, cannot we just eat now?”
Jasper: “Not yet, and stop scratching!”
Nicholas: “Alright, the appearance of the Silver Flame affected Thrane in many ways
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Later that day Nicholas wrote this and mailed it to his father.
Nymm 16 981
Dear Father,
I hope all is well. My studies continue to go on. History continues to be such drudgery and do not even get me started on etiquette. If I have eat one more crumpet while keeping perfect posture and direct eye contact I will dump the teapot on Jasper’s head! Thank the Host that my next lesson is usually sparing. A good sparing always makes me feel better; the fact that I have a talent for it does not hurt.
Carmen, Ellease, and Damian should be back from their visit to Aunt Ebinneatta in a tenday or two. I am glad that Ebinneaita does not like me. It is an honor to attend the main house in Karnath but the country creeps me out. I am not thrilled with skeletons.
I am told that a new phase of my training will begin soon. The study of the Laws of Galifar will now be for me to know. I am very excited as this brings me one more step closer in being a full member of the house. I often spend time thinking of how it will be when I am older. Traveling the countryside as a Blademark or a Defender. Rescuing the week and slaying the vile. Occasionally getting the chance to work with you and if the Host truly smiles on me I may one day become a Sentinel Marshal. Now that would be a true honor.
I have commissioned a new bed for my self. The old one has been well worn and I think it got a bug problem. It has been on the itchy side. But I think I have solved the problem. On a happier note, the anniversary of my twelfth year will arrive in two months. I remind you that you had said that you would be back by then. You even hinted at the idea that we might take a trip to Stormhome. I would enjoy spending a few weeks traveling with you. But regardless of what we do it will be good to have you back from the guard.
Love,
Nick
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
This letter was sent a month later.
Lharvion 12, 981
Lord Alderann Deneith,
Your presence is required at Stallpen Manor at all haste. Master Nicolas has been plagued with violent itching for some time now. At first we thought it was an insect problem but it turned out not to be the case. The itching continued and then grew to include a fever. Priests of the Host have been to him and can do nothing to help. What is more, the cause of this affliction escapes them. That was four nights past. At dawn toady Master woke up and felt completely normal save a mark on his belly. At first glance it appears to be a dragon mark but it shape is odd some how. Also it seams to have been burned into his chest with slight scaring on the edges. The mark does not cause Master Nicolas pain but I still think you and maybe one who is knowledgeable in the lore of dragon marks should look into the matter.
Master Nicolas has taken the experience in stride but he is quite distressed about the matter.
With concern,
Higgins Stallpen
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Background
Nicholas d’ddd was a typical, happy –go-lucky child. He fought with his sister Carmen. The two of them and their friends, Damian and Ellease, would get into trouble, get dirty, and then laugh about it around the dinner table. The four of them lived at Stallpen Manor in south Aundair on Ellease’s family estate. Nicholas and Carme’s father Alderann worked abroad but managed to visit every two to three months. It was a good life but all of that changed a few months before Nicholas’ 11th birthday.
Nicholas’ chest began to itch in Nymm. By the begging of Lharvion a rash covered his chest and then a fever nearly brought him to the point of death. The cleric did what they could but they could not find the cause or a remedy. On the morning of the twelfth day in Lharion Nicholas sat up and asked for breakfast as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Everyone was relived until they noticed a tattoo on his chest. Shortly thereafter Nicholas would learn that he had an aberrant dragonmark and that his life would never be the same again.
His mark was something that “we do not talk about openly.” The Stallpen Manor staff would get all quiet when he walked by but Nicholas knew they were talking about him. A gnome arrived at the manor at that time. He just stared at Nicholas, giving him the creeps. Carmen stopped teasing him and acted all formal around him, though she still called him Nicky. Ellease always seemed like there was some other place she needed to be. Alderann acted like everything was fine but when he looked at Nicholas, Nicholas could see deep sadness in his father’s eyes. Damian thought the whole thing was stupid and made it a point to let all know.
Physically Nicholas was fine, better than fine in fact, he felt alive. Whenever he was around open flames he felt a rush of energy, the fire seemed alive and it knew him. The flames would shit ever so slightly toward Nicholas as he entered a room. On one of these occasions Nicholas embraced the experience. Closing his eyes he could feel heat wash over him, it burned but that was okay. When he opened his eyes there was a ball of purple and green flames sitting in his hand. He swayed his arm through the air, mesmerized by the sight. Just as Nicholas was beginning to think about what was going on a cold wave hit him and he was soaking wet. Orvin, the gnome, was standing before him with a bucket in his hand and a scowl on his face.
In the next few months Orvin proceeded to “inform” Nicholas on what it meant to have a aberrant mark. These are some of Orvin’s instructions:
“The mark is an abomination.
All abomination must be squelched
You should consider yourself lucky that we don’t kill you and purge the mark.
Keep the truth about your mark hidden and never use it’s power.
And above all else NEVER have physical contact with a woman or even think about
having children”
This greatly troubled Nicholas. He did every he could to be anywhere Ovrin was not. Nicholas wound up spending most of his time in the manor’s chapel with Father Jeremy.
Ft Jeremy had a different view on Nicholas. He told him:
“You are not evil just different.
The Soveren Host will not abandon you.
Though it is wise not to advertise it, never hide who you really are.
Always be true to yourself.
Your power brings responsibility.
Learn to control it or it will control you.”
With these and other words Nicholas began to be whole again. He could hear the Host calling to him and it was beautiful. Nicholas decided that he would become a paladin like his father before him. Nicholas would be a defender of the faith and champion of the code of the Galifar.
Saying it was one thing, actually doing it was another. For the next five years Nicholas truly learned the meaning of discipline. Up before dawn every day for morning prayers, stringent physical training, and theological tutelage and debate were the routine. Most nights Nicholas past out as soon as he got to his “room,” it was like living in a closet. Orvin showed up twice a week to examine the mark and Nicholas’ behavior. Nicholas wrote letters when he could and received visitors a few times a year. During this time his friends were getting there education too. Carmen was on Karrnath learning at the main Deneith house enclave. Ellease was in the Eldeen Reaches learning the ways of the wild; she wrote letters but never visited. And Damian was at Arcanix, an apprentice warmage. From Damian’s letters his studies were even more grueling than his were.
As soon as Nicholas’ training was complete his house called him into service. He joined the Blademarks and spent the next year in living Khyber. Nicholas was sent to a regiment with the rejects, they were rowdy, wild, and out of control and none of them liked him. Nicholas represented everything they were not which pleased Sgt Hardass because it made his job all the essayer. Sgt Hardass was given instruction from Ebinneata to break Nicholas but no matter what he did Nicholas kept going and excelled in his position. Alderann finally stepped in and had Nicholas transferred to a unit where he could be recognized for his accomplishments.
Damian was in Nicholas’ new unit and for a time life was good. Although Nicholas stilled had a stigma attached to him things were not nearly as bad. For two years they climb the ranks to both become Gold Blades. They walk the line between countries at war never interfering but always there. When his tour was up Nicholas had a longing that there was something else he should be doing. He transferred over to the Defenders Guild for a year but he still felt out of place (he also got many lousy assignments.) One morning while he was praying Nicholas had a vision of Orcs battling demons in a desolate environment. He felt the call and knew what he had to do. He gave notice and headed for the Demon Wastes. Nichoals was given leave to go on the condition that he could be called back to Denrith if the so choose.
Nicholas joined the Maruk tribe (EBCS page159-160) and spent the next nine years of his with them.. It was a great time in his life, for the first time he was not judged on his lineage or his abnormalities but on who he was and what he did. Nichoals was at peace even amongst all the strife and bloodshed. His clan would be there till death and he was there from them.
When it was time to brand Nicholas with the Kalok Shash, the binding flame, his mark was made known to the tribe. Nicholas was not given the brand saying he already had it. Lhare Suusha saw the as an omen
“He was one of us before we knew him.
The Kalok Shash called Nicholas to us
His path is and always was tied to the Flame.”
Nicholas was not sure what to think of this so called “prophecy.” He let it be known that he did not want to be treated differently than any other clansmen. The tribe continued to think that Nicholas was special but respect his feeling.
In 998 when the Wastes grew quite this greatly worried the tribes. Whatever was going on it was not good. Denieth recalled Nicholas for a mission and being what things were he accepted. Before he left Lhare privately told him “when you return to us you will be ready.” Nicholas said “ready for what?” Without answering Lhare turned around and walked away.
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Glossary of Characters
Alderann d’Deneith: Carmen +Nicholas’ father and a Sentinel Marshal. I am going to give the DMs complete control of Alderann background
Beth d’Cannith: Jorlanna found Beth apprenticing to become a Cannith blacksmith and made a proposal. Beth would move to Aundair and keep tabs on Nicholas as he grew up in exchange Beth would be made a member of house Cannith. Nicholas remembers Beth as a nice woman from his youth.
Brunnen-G: (short for Brunnen Ghaash’kala it translates as “brethren ghost guardians”) it is what the Maruk orc tribe calls their warriors. The Brunnen-G Battle Hymn is a testament to the ways and honor of the tribe. When Nicholas was teaching Destrin Orc this is one of the song he taut him. The lyrics to the song appear in the next section.
Carmen d’Deneith: Nicholas’ older sister, by 3 years. Her personality comes from Carmen Sandiego, Where on Earth is? Carmen wants things her way and goes to great lengths to achieve this. She excels in the plot and intrigue game and is well known amongst the houses as a major player. She is a LN hexblade. The differences in philosophies have been a point of contention between her and Nicholas since they were children. Carmen would think up elaborate schemes and try to convince Nicholas to go along with it.; which he sometimes did just to see what she was up to. She cares about her brother though she would never admit it and is the only one to get away with calling him Nicky. Carmen’s favorite color is red.
Damian d’Deneith: Nicholas’ cousin and LG warmage. Damian is a bright but simple guy. He sees the world in absolutes of black and white. Shoot first ask questions later. If it is evil, blast it. If its you enemy, blast it. If something is bothering you, blast it. Despite all of this Damian is decent guy and one of Nicholas’ only true friends. They served together for tow years in the Blademark guild.
Ebinneatta d’Deneith: Carmen’s mother. From Nicholas’ perspective Aunt Ebby is a mean vile creature. He tried to detect evil on her one and it failed but Nicholas suspects that she has magic on her that changed his sight. Their relationship is like that of Hercules and Hera, though to Nicholas’ knowledge she has not tried to kill him.
Ellease d’Deneith: NG ranger and daughter of Thomas Stallpen. With Carmen and Nicholas always going at it and Damian just bulldozing through life Ellease was the usually the voice of reason in the group. Trying to keep the peace and them all out of trouble was her goal. The fact that she was not an air of the house like the rest of them made her feel that she needed to constantly maintain that she belonged in the house. She was betrothed to Nicholas before his mark appeared but that was changed there after. Nicholas has not seen or heard from her since he went off to the demon wastes.
Ghaash’kala: (Orc roughly translates as “ghost guardians”) It refers to the Orc tribes in the demon Wastes that believe it is their sacred duty to prevent the evil from leaving the wastes.
Higgins Stallpen: Thomas’ bother and lord of Stallpen Manor.
Jasper: Nicholas’ tutor and friend.
Kalok Shash: (the binding flame) The Ghaash’kala worship the flame. Their priests say that the flame consists of the souls of noble warriors, and that this force holds the powers of darkness at bay. The Kalok Shash is the same force revered by the church of the silver flame.
Lhare Suusha: elderly high priestess of the Maruk clan. LG cleric 9 of Kalok Shash. She spoke of Nicholas’ destiny being associated with the Kalok Shash/Sliver Flame.
Sgt Lee “Hard Ass” d’Deneith: People call him Sgt Hardass and he likes it! He was Nicholas and Damian’ CO for their first year in the Blade marks. His personality is like Sgt Harman of Full Metal Jacket and he did not like Nicholas. ’Nough said.
Maruk Ghaash’kala: the Maruk tribe gaurds the central passages through the Deamon Wastes. See pages 159-160 in the EBCS for more information.
Nicholas d’Deneith: the protagonist. He was born on Rhaan 27, 970 at moon rise when the moon Rhaan was full. Nicholas’ chest started to itch in the month of Nymm as Fernia became coterminous with the material plane. Nicholas mark manifested on Lharvion 12 as Fernia was still coterminous and the moon Rhaan was New.
Orvin: Gnome dragonmark lore master. Orvin was hired by Alderann to monitor the development of Nicholas’ aberrant mark. Orvin believes that the marks power is tied to Fernia (the plane of fire) and fears what will happen if the mark is exposed to further influences of Fernia. Orvin hates aberrant marked and believes they should all be eliminated. Orvin is sympathetic to Nicholas’ “condition” and has worked to educate him on the marks. But above all else Orvin has drilled into Nicholas the notion that he must never bear children and must never be intimate with a woman from any race.
Father Jeremy
Rhaan Moon: This is the moon that is associated with Fernia the sea if Fire
Stallpen Manor: A vineyard and estate of the Stallpen family. Also the place where Nicholas, Carmen, Ellease, and Damian grew up.
Thomas Stallpen: A ranger that worked for Deneith in the Eldeen reaches. He was a friend and fellow Blades Marksmen to Alderann for many years. Thomas’ heroics and service to Denieth had earned him entry into the house, however before this honor could be bestowed he was stuck down. He and most of his unit were decimated by Drifter Claw and his patrol. House membership was given to Thomas’ daughter Ellease in his stead.
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Orc Stuff.
I see the tribes of the Demon Wastes behaving a lot like Klingons. The Carrion tribes are ruthless bloodthirsty killers and the Ghaash’kala are honorable warriors but they still both behave like klingons. This is a website that has some Klingon music and their lyrics
members.shaw.ca/iksbloodoath/klingon_songs.htm
I can sing most of these by heart.
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Name: Nox
Home region: Droamm
Relatives: Parents unknown (deceased), The Daughters of Sora Kell (surrogate mothers)
Classification: Changeling Ninja
History:
Nox was the daughter of two changelings from a community on the very edges of the Eldean Reaches and Breland, living an anonymous life in the midst of turmoil. When the Daughters of Sora Kell, known as the Night Hags, came to Breland, they carved the country to pieces to make it a haven for all things dark. All the monsters that wished it made their home in the newly created country of Droamm and those who didn’t wish to live in a land infested with monsters had a choice: either leave or fight. A small skirmish uprising near the border was one of the only armed uprisings and was crushed quickly; the leaders of that uprising were Nox’s parents. It was hardly worth noting their deaths in the record books for their uprising was of little consequence, but what became of consequence was the actions of their little daughter. Nox, infuriated by the murder of her parents, tried to kill one of the Night Hags when she passed by on her way to the Great Crag. Sora Katra saw the potential in the little girl and took her back to the Great Crag where Nox’s intensity charmed the other hags and they kept the little changeling as their own.
At first, Nox held onto her identity and tried to remember her parents but as time wore on it became harder and harder. She was lavished with gifts and presents and given whatever she wanted. Before long, she was being raised as the equivilent of the daughter of the rulers of the brand new Droamm, her past life as just a simple girl from nowhere forgotten. She was treated as a daughter of the rulers of a country would be but with a twist: considering who her surrogate mothers were, she learned very different lessons than most children would. From Sora Katra, she learned the strategic mind of a consumate schemer. She was trained at the knee of Sora Maenya, developing her intensity as a young woman and as a warrior. She came to love Sora Teraza the most, however, blind Sora Teraza who seemed so inscrutable but who, in the night, Nox sang to and spent her time speaking with of everything out in the world beyond Droamm. She came to love all three Daughters of Sora Kell as her only parents and began on her training to become the perfect daughter that they needed and wanted; a perfect daughter and a perfect killer.
Nox began her training very young, trained constantly in strategy, drilled in becoming a great warrior, and in the ways of using her changeling abilities as an asset to be exploited. Ambition drove Nox to become a deadly killer; her stealth and speed became her greaest gifts, allowing her to blend into the background and strike out quickly before dissapearing without a trace. Her abilities were constantly tested as Night Hags showed off their little girl to the other prominent leaders of the monster races about Droamm. Nox was fearless, facing thinly veiled test after test to prove that she deserved the place she had in court and developed a controlling hand about her life, ambition driving her to be nothing but the best. All for the glory of Droamm, of course, and to make her mothers proud.
When her training advanced, Nox was sent out to act on behalf of the Night Hags in various conflicts and clashes as a peacemaker, but her peace always came at the end of a battle or a weapon. By that time, she was fully evolved into a young woman with an intense personality, used to getting what she wanted and never wishing to back down. She soon developed a reputation; word spread far and wide of a deadly assassin, raised on the knee of the Night Hags, who did their bidding. Wherever she went, a corpse or several would be left behind. She traveled to the lands of various nobles, such as the Queen of Stone (to keep an eye on the medusa leader) and the illithid Xor’chylic in Graywall (who she detested above all others). Her best times were with the Dark Pack, slaying bands of emmisary warriors from the Church of the Silver Flame that wished to annihilate the Dark Pack on Droamm lands. Her name grew in fame; her list of kills extended.
Returning to the Night Hags after her extensive travels, she was presented with weapons and a created messenger to better serve the court and officially designated their Breath in the world, their killer. She had gained enough reknown to carry their feared names out into the world. Yet she did encounter one problem with this idea – she was now perhaps a little too well known by their enemies. Operating without being found out when one’s reputation was growing like hers and so Nox tapped into her changeling abilities and invented the personae of Daeanira. Nox picked a young human who had served as a slave in the Great Crag as the facial model, slaughtered her, and assumed her identity to travel out of Droamm as the diplomatic arm of Droamm, wishing nothing but to be recognized by the other nations of Khorvaire. This allowed her access to places that she would have simply had to sneak into before and allowed her to assume a waiting allibi from the moment she created her crimes. Moreover, the personality that she cultivated for the capricious, gregarious Daeanira gave her the chance to let out a part of her personality unexplored in such a tightly controlled world as she had lived in until that time. Embracing the role she had to play, Nox developed quirks, habits and even friends and relationships in other lands as she travelled to make the alias of Daeanira beyond question. Once this personality was established, it allowed her to travel unencumbered like never before; her targets became higher profile and her renown as an assassin grew.
The only trouble came when Nox began getting too comfortable in the role of Daeanira, enjoying the undercover aspect of her life to a nearly pathological level. To Nox, everything was split down the middle inside herself; Daeanira is sweet, coy, charming and playful while Nox is the vicious, deadly, intense part of herself. Slowly she began to become more and more frustrated due to her life as Daeanira, experiencing a world that often confused and irritated her, a world in which she could not control her surroundings all the time. She began to lash out, her anger breaking her cover occassionally and giving way to unexpected bouts of rage or frustration. By the time she has been sent to the reception in Sharn, the two lives of Daeanira and Nox are clashing as Nox tries to live a foothold in both worlds.
Gear: Blades (God of war blades), Expediant Messenger, basic gear (requesting: bag of holding).
Name: Dartea Alestro
Gender: Female
Race: Half-Elf (Grey)
Age: Thirty Four (Roughly twenty- three in human years.)
Hair: Brown, and short
Height: 5’ 6
Eye Color: Green
Features: Has sharp, noble features. She has a small nose, narrow chin and softer jaw and eyes that seemed to be curious and strong to all things around her. Often, she wears eyeshadow. She is lithe of build, but has a wiry strength to her, and her years of training under the blade show in her posture. She has a look of inquisitiveness and a strong, noble air to her nature, yet she often looks as though she longs for something she has lost. A scar runs underneath her chin, along her neck.
Clothing: Underneath her armor she wears a white ruffled shirt with blue overcoat, along with blue britches and knee-high boots. At her waist, her sword is strapped. The overcoat she wears seems more suited to travel and the rigors of battle than fashionable. She often wears a matching tricorne hat, a last memory of her mother, found floating in the ocean.
Background:
Dartea was born out at sea. Her mother, Streya Alestro, Captain of the Patron’s Blade and one of the greatest explorers whom ever lived, conceived the child through a brief shore-leave fling with a human. Streya had not expected a child but loved Dartea. She loved her career equally as much, however, and decided to leave the child with her grandfather, Starayn, in the Elven capitol of Valenar.
Starayn was a rather enthusiastic and mysterious fellow. Dartea found he had a penchant for historical study, filled with lore and tomes of varied civilizations. Several books even seemed to predate major events in history. Much to Dartea’s surprise, much of his library was also off limits, including the basement, where she imagined a good deal of the collection continued. She never quite understood why she wasn’t allowed within.
Every now and again, her mother would swing ashore to visit her daughter, the sight of the glorious banner of The Patron’s Blade whipping in the wind to signal her arrival at port. Streya would excite Dartea with stories abroad, of locales and amazing places. Coupled with her grandfather’s lore and knowledge of the world, Dartea grew an appetite for adventure, herself. In between sessions at school and her grandfather’s stories, she grew a deep fondness for both her grandfather and her mother.
Life in Valenar was strange. As a half-breed, she was never quite accepted by her peers. She managed to make friends, but more enemies amongst her schoolyard chums than anything. She was ridiculed for human parentage, or simultaneously pitied by the few schoolmates she did manage to make. Dartea was an outsider, and it was hard to fight that designation.
Around the age of sixteen, (Twelve in human years) The Patron’s Blade made its appearance at port. It was night when Streya had arrived, looking rather excited and yet forlorn. She smiled fondly to Starayn and explained in complex terms that she would be on a six month long business trip for house Cannith. She promised Dartea and Starayn that she would be gone for six months and no longer. Leaving a kiss upon Dartea’s forehead, Streya left yet again on her life of adventure.
Six months passed into eight months. Eight months stretched into a year. A year stretched into a year and six months. There was no news of either life or death. Starayn tried to get into contact with house Cannith, who claimed the situation was well in order, but both members of the household were fearful. Dartea fell into a depression over the absence of her mother.
Finally, after two whole years since the night she had left, Streya made an appearance, stepping in through the door. She had little to say to any of them, only that matters of business would mean she would be leaving almost immediately. For one night she stayed, giving instructions and a tome to Starayn that she had come upon on her voyages. Starayn did not ask many questions or press the issue. He merely requested that she say goodbye to her daughter before she left.
Dartea was ecstatic to see her mother and torn to pieces to hear of her leaving again. Streya promised it would not be as long. As a parting gift, Streya gave her a necklace, one Dartea had never seen before. A jewel resembling a tear that shimmered in the light was embedded in the necklace. Streya told her daughter that the stone was a very special one, and made her promise to wear it always, and keep it safe. With the same parting kiss on her forehead, a warm embrace and tears of sadness, she bid farewell, yet again. It would be the last time.
Two months later, a representative from House Cannith appeared. Starayn argued with him at the doorstep. He looked torn and angered. The man seemed to hand something to Starayn during the conversation, but after the man left Starayn said it was merely a solicitor. He then hurried to put away the object he had received, to hide it from his granddaughter lest she see it: Streya’s tricorne hat. He never explained to Dartea what had happened and immediately began training her in the ways of a strange new fighting style he called, “The Flow.” All talks of Dartea’s mother were swept aside.
Dartea spent the years afterward in school, training and reading in the library. Her thirst for knowing what had happened to her mother was no mystery. She knew that Starayn was hiding something. She finally and fiercely confronted him on the matter. Standing up to his authority she demanded to know what had happened to her mother. Starayn could not hide it any longer, and with regretful pain, he admitted the identity of the man who visited. Her mother had died out at sea. Her mother’s hat was given to Dartea as a gift. Even still, Starayn never said the reason her mother died. He claimed not to know. Dartea never forgave him for keeping the knowledge from her for so long.
Dartea spent the last of her teenage years training, becoming rather adept at the blade, and per the teachings of her grandfather, she was equally competent in magic as well. She spent her years learning more about the world around her. Her grandfather finally opened up the hidden parts of the library, letting her drink in the knowledge of civilizations long lost. Dartea felt that by learning about history, the world, and the seas, she would get closer to her mother.
As required by the military, Dartea joined Valenar’s fighting forces at the age of twenty-two for her ten year service. It was a welcome relief, as she was free of her grandfather. Though she did not hate him, she was unable to forgive how he hid her mother’s death for so long.
She began adopting the name “Northwind” in her military circles. Her unit did not argue and affectionately referred to her as such. Dartea was exceptional in the field. Her mastery of the blade increased, and her continued study of her discipline made her a unique combatant on the field. Due to losses on the battlefront, she received her chance at leading her clan, eventually receiving commendations by her superiors for excellent performance. She even managed to rescue one of her fellow officers and their entire regimen on a skirmish along the border.
Using her reputation as a field commander, she transferred and spent the years following her end of service escorting interested merchants and parties on expeditions as a bodyguard. Valenar’s government received many historical pieces and treasures under her watchful eye. Following these operations, (Which were Dartea’s fondest six months in her military career,) she landed a job with Valenar’s government to teach younger and fresher recruits her fighting art, as it was seen as a highly effective force on the battlefront.
Then one day, she received a letter…
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Background
I was…born an unnamed machine, a construct given life, a solider born and breed. The perfect tool of destruction birthed in war, christened in blood and taught the lessons of life on the march.
I have traces my time of creation to approximately 966 YK 30 years before the end of the last war, within the first year of Warforge’s being made for the war. I was stationed in Cyre the city of my creation for the express purpose of protecting the citizenry. This assignment however was short lived after only a few month I was sent out to skirmishes along the Thrane border, and from there into the front lines of battles all along Breland, Zilargo, Dargun, Valenar and even deep into the Talenta Plains. Within my first decade I had distinguished myself among my unit and was given the rank of Sergeant, and command of my own unit of Warforged.
Within another 10 years after a string of successful campaigns I was granted the rank of Lieutenant the highest rank any warfoged had yet reached with in the armies and I was only the second to reach it. My success in battle became such that on occasion the mere appearance of my units standard (a Great axe over a Fullblade) would change the tactics of my opponent, and bolster the moral of my allies.
This was a good time for me I had allies and enemies and each day brought the promise of battle against worthy opponents I was satisfied. It is hard to express my emotion for those years because of I have learned what emotion is and it is even harder to explain the emotions I was feeling as I was just learning what emotion was myself. I can say I felt a bond of camaraderie with all of Cyre’s soldiers, warforged and flesh alike. But there were few people I treated as were friends. Two in particular I was very close with.
A warforged artificer who was given the nickname Tink and General Luis Dock of the Cyrian armed forces. When I meet General Luis he was the sergeant of the first unit I was assigned to on the field. He was the first person I ever saw treat warforged as living things…with respect. Tink was also in the same unit, he was as new as I was so we were assigned positions close to each other on the front line. After our units first few engagements in which sergeant Luis ended up behind enemy lines and Tink and I went out to him and we three ended up fighting side by side till the enemy pulled back. I t became a common joke around our camp “Sarge can always run right into heaviest shit cause Tink and Corp will always drag him out breathing”.
As Luis moved up in the ranks he would always recommend me for a promotion (and transfer to his command) and if it was approved I’d request Tink come with me. From then we were nigh inseparable, even though Tink never rose above sergeant and Luis became a General. In fact as soon as Luis was given General bars he appointed my unit as his personal guards when he was on the field. The last two decades of the war were the happiest times of my life.
They however did not last. While warfoged did not need down time every six months the home guard unit of warforged would get rotated out into the field, and replaced with a front line unit. In the summer of 994 my unit was scheduled to be replace the current home guards. Luis however realized this would be a perfect opportunity for us to go off and adventure on our own for a while. I believe the exact term he used was “a male… machine bonding experience”. And as a General with proper planning it could be arranged.
After a few days of planning and prepping we finalized the plan. As soon as we arrived in Cyre I would be sent out to a minor member of the royal family in Breland with an “important message.” However the information in the “message” is incorrect and since I am a member of his personal guard General Luis would have no choice but to rush after me himself with a token force (of all friends) for protection. I would be waiting a few miles within the Breland border and we would have approximately three weeks to do with as we saw fit.
Everything was going according to plan up till the morning before the rendezvous I was heading to the appointed meeting place a few miles closer to the border when a huge light started from as far into Cyre as I could see, preceded by a huge sound wave. I walked to the appointed meeting place a small hillock and stood there unmoving waiting, hoping but no one showed up. On the morning of the third day I had been waiting I headed into Cyre to find my friends. After approximately two weeks of searching, finding all sorts of new fauna, and vicious new creatures I managed to make my way out with no more information on my friends.
My solo investigation failing horribly I decided to head to Breland where I knew at least one member of the royal family Prince Oargev ir’Wynarn was serving as ambassador. However less than two days into my travels I came across a group of Cyran farmers who told of an odd group moving along the border, tow Warfoged and a shifter all bearing military insignia. My first thought was could it be. I immediately ran off in the direction they were seen running night and day non stop, after little over a day and a half I crested a hill and saw Tink, Big Barda and Geronimo sitting by a fire near the border.
I could barely contain my feelings and for a moment I hoped in spite of all I had seen Luis was alive, but the look on Geronimo's face when I asked killed all hope of that. Luis’s wife had heard he was coming to the capital and went there to surprise him. He didn’t find out about this until he was ready to head out so he sent Tink, Big Barda & Geronimo out ahead and went back to spend the night with his wife. They moved quickly hoping to get to the rendezvous before I did to inform me of the new developments, and also hoping to surprise me and have a good laugh at my expense. Geronimo lead them out of Cyre’s borders south of the rendezvous point and started the group moving silently, downwind towards the appointed spot when they say the flash from Cyre. Not knowing what to do Barda and Tink refused to move for over a week until Geronimo could convince them it would be more effective to scout along the border. Deciding to combine both ideas we moved along the border looking for signs of any survivors till were almost at Thrane then cut southwestward into Breland to head to Wroat. During the following week we came across many displaced farmers and peasants whom we directed to Wroat hoping the Breland government was still friendly. Also during that time we heard stories of people being occasionally attacked by strange creatures coming from Cyre, creatures none of us had ever seen before. During these days Tink, Barda and I would head out two hours before sunrise, with Barda taking point and leaving not so obvious tracks for Geronimo to follow. By midday Geronimo would have caught up and take up point position and Barda would start to fall back, to serve as rear guard and to attempt to forage provisions. By sunset Tink and I would reach the spot Geronimo selected for camp and begin setting up while he kept watch. Once camp was set he would go take a nap and we ‘d keep watch till Barda showed up with, and prepared diner. Then we wake him he would eat and we would spend a few hours talking. Those nights we would speak of everything past, present, and what the future holds. And I would tell them what Cyre looked like now, the monsters and undead, the undecaying bodies and the undead.
By time we reached Wroat Prince Oargev ir’Wynarn was getting ready to move our people to the land Breland had given us to build settlements for all the surviving Cyreans. But he immediately authorized an investigative mission into the Mournland, with me leading and Geronimo and Tink as my seconds. This was the first and possibly the most informative mission, as its where after a particularly vicious battle (our first) we learned healing magic and items of no kind worked within the fog border. With most of the team specializing in magical analysis and investigation not combat magic’s, I had a difficult time getting most of us out with only one causality, who we buried. She did not however stay dead and attacked us the following night, she had to be dismembered and burned to finally stop moving. By time we made it out the fog and back to Breland everyone had gained a new respect for the dangers of the Mournland.
For the next year the four of us lead many more missions into the Mournland, until “the corruption” of the place started getting to Geronimo and he was given permission to leave and return to his village in the Eldeen Reaches. Big Barda as well was becoming disheartened so the next year when the Treaty of Thronehold was signed and all warfoged we freed and the Cyrean militia asked us all to re enlist she gracefully declined and left to take a position in the Brelish army at the floating fortress of Argonth. I however felt I couldn’t reenlist until I had found Luis’s remains, much to the disappointment of most of the Mournland teams. As I had the most successful record, and the least losses of all the unit leaders. I was given a few days to set my affairs in order before I was to leave the militia barracks.
The night after I announced I was not reenlisting a messenger came to my palate and informed me the Prince wished to speak with me. That night I had along discuss with Prince Wynarn and we reached a compromise I would be allowed to search for Luis’s body for two weeks twice a year and I would be allowed to take up to a six man fully provisioned unit. In return I accepted a special position that gave me the equivalent rank of General answerable only to the Prince himself. I would be in charge of reclaiming Cyrean artifacts and investigating the cause of the explosion by any means necessary. I was to select any people I needed to help accomplish these goals in either official or unofficial capacities. Short of murder or any action damaging to Cyre’s precarious (almost nonexistent) political position I was given full authorization.
Within the next two years I had gather and trained small teams to officially enter the Mournland borders and left the scheduling and day to day to my second in command Tink. The Black Pit in Breland’s black market, Ikar’s Salvage and a few others also unofficially knew me as well as more reputable dealers of had to come by artifacts.
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Name: Drifter Claw
Age: 34 Eyes: Dark Brown
Height: 6’4” Hair/Fur: Dark Brown/Black/ Grizzled
Weight: 285 lbs Skin: Tan
Occupation: Assistant to the Wardens of the Wood.
The character himself is a brooding loner, but not a bad guy. He’s caught between being a tame animal and being a wild human, never fitting completely in to one kind of civilization or the other. His story is that of a war hero who lost everything in the war, and disappeared into the background, working in shadows behind the scenes. Truly, Drifter Claw cares for his people.
The son of the great general Great Claw was born into the last portion of the Last War. Great Claw had lost his father to the war.and for the most part was raised by the war. As such, even when Drifter Claw was too young for the war, he was being raised by it as well. When Drifter Claw was old enough, he entered it.
Drifter’s father was distant and abusive, sometimes stranding his son in the middle of a forest with no warning, leaving him to fend for himself. Drifter had managed to survive and grew used to this exercise, as well as the others. Drifter’s father was rough and only grew moreso as Drifter got older. He even slashed Drifter across the face leaving a scar. Years of brutal and harsh training had made Drifter more than suitable for battle, however, his ability to properly express emotion was underdeveloped.
The lack of love and affectionate displays from his father helped make Drifter cold, and his mother could not make up for his father. Drifter Claw developed a drifter complex. In order to cope with his emotions and thoughts, he learned to wander, filling his mind with new sensory input and concentrating on his surroundings. He frequently drifted in and out of different areas, and this even became his fighting tactic in the Last War. He would drift randomly into or near the areas of enemy encampments and formations, striking quickly and ferociously, then retreating leaving the enemy confused and injured.
In the war, Drifter Claw started out as a simple scout and earned his way up the ranks. To avoid nepotism, his father had him purposely start at one of the lowest ranks possible, but Drifter proved he was the great general’s son, quickly climbing his way up the ranks to Sergeant Major. Drifter was not the most charismatic of people, but he led through sheer might and reputation. His deeds became known and he was admired. His deeds were demonstrated and he was followed. Self-assured in his ability to fight, and fearless in appearance, Drifter Claw grew in popularity with his own people, as well as the enemy. Soon, the enemies were afraid to enter the Towering Woods. The many armaments of their soldiers were strung around trees and littered among the ground in plain sight. The number of armaments grew steadily, and the morale of the enemy dropped with the same consistency.
Drifter Claw became a hero to his people, but his motivation was not to be a hero, nor to simply survive and come out on top. It was to make his father proud of him.
The last bit of Aundair soldiers was fought off yet again by Drifter Claw and other warriors of the Eldeen Reaches. The Aundair invasions were over, and Drifter’s duties as Sergeant Major were no longer required. Knowing this, Drifter veutured into the mountains of the Eldeen Reaches, where he made his home in a cave. He gave his comrade Shadow Leaf knowledge of his location. Should the Wardens of the Wood need Drifter Claw again, they would know where to find him….
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Jasper: “Master Nicholas?”
“Master Nicholas”
“NICHOLAS!”
Nicholas’ mind snapped back to where he was and he blurted out
“King-Galifar-the-first-united-Khorvair-and-establish-the-five-nations:-Aundair-Breland-Cyre-Karrnath-and-Thrane.”
Nicholas gaze swung from the tower’s window to his tutor who was glaring at him from across the classroom. A usually jovial man with long wavy brown hair and a sour expression on his face walk over to Nicholas’ desk. Taking the nearest chair he sat down and said:
Jasper: “Master Nicholas, I finished discussing the founding of the Five Nations nearly ten minutes ago. I was asking your opinion on how the appearance of the Silver Flame affected the development of Thrane. Now if you are in the middle of something more important I will wait.”
Nicholas: “Don’t be cross with me Jasper, we have been at this for three hours. I am sorry if my mind wandered a little.”
Jasper: “It is ‘do not”, never ‘don’t’. Remember how you say things can be more important than what you actually say. Whilst I am reminding you of things do not forget who you are. You are the son of Alderann, a dragonmarked heir of House Deneith.”
Nicholas: “Jasper, it is just thou and I here can we not relax this just a tad? My sister and the others will be back soon and I am enjoying the break”
Jasper: “You cannot take a break from life Master Nicholas. You will be going to Wynarn University in one harvest’s time. It is my job to have you ready for that and your début ball come winter. This is a crucial stage in your life, much weighs on the impression you make on your house and how your are received by the aristocracy.”
Nicholas: “I know, I know. I just hate all the plots and intrigue. All of it is just so...false. It is everything that I hate about my sister.”
Jasper: “Your sister might be a handful but she is not a bad person.”
Nicholas: “She is an expert a putting up facades. Making you think or feel whatever she wants you to. It all some kind of game to her.”
Jasper: “Well, then you a master of understanding, sympathy, and understanding. You might not like Carmen’s tactics but you are playing the same game. If the two of you ever put your differences aside it would be scary what you could accomplish. Do you realize that you cause your own problems?”
Nicholas: “Huh?”
Jasper: “Nicholas, you go out of your way to expose your sister at every turn, to uncover and reveal what is unknown. You have a hard time letting things go.”
Nicholas: “Um, ah...that is not true.”
Jasper: *stares * “Nicholas”
Nicholas: “well okay, maybe a little but…”
Jasper: “No buts. Do not try to respond now, live with the thought.”
(a short pause)
Jasper: “Now Nicholas you were right, we have been at this for some time. Answer my question on the effects of the Silver Flame on Thrane and then we get something to eat.
Nicholas: * Nicholas scratches his chest* “Ah Jasper, cannot we just eat now?”
Jasper: “Not yet, and stop scratching!”
Nicholas: “Alright, the appearance of the Silver Flame affected Thrane in many ways
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Later that day Nicholas wrote this and mailed it to his father.
Nymm 16 981
Dear Father,
I hope all is well. My studies continue to go on. History continues to be such drudgery and do not even get me started on etiquette. If I have eat one more crumpet while keeping perfect posture and direct eye contact I will dump the teapot on Jasper’s head! Thank the Host that my next lesson is usually sparing. A good sparing always makes me feel better; the fact that I have a talent for it does not hurt.
Carmen, Ellease, and Damian should be back from their visit to Aunt Ebinneatta in a tenday or two. I am glad that Ebinneaita does not like me. It is an honor to attend the main house in Karnath but the country creeps me out. I am not thrilled with skeletons.
I am told that a new phase of my training will begin soon. The study of the Laws of Galifar will now be for me to know. I am very excited as this brings me one more step closer in being a full member of the house. I often spend time thinking of how it will be when I am older. Traveling the countryside as a Blademark or a Defender. Rescuing the week and slaying the vile. Occasionally getting the chance to work with you and if the Host truly smiles on me I may one day become a Sentinel Marshal. Now that would be a true honor.
I have commissioned a new bed for my self. The old one has been well worn and I think it got a bug problem. It has been on the itchy side. But I think I have solved the problem. On a happier note, the anniversary of my twelfth year will arrive in two months. I remind you that you had said that you would be back by then. You even hinted at the idea that we might take a trip to Stormhome. I would enjoy spending a few weeks traveling with you. But regardless of what we do it will be good to have you back from the guard.
Love,
Nick
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This letter was sent a month later.
Lharvion 12, 981
Lord Alderann Deneith,
Your presence is required at Stallpen Manor at all haste. Master Nicolas has been plagued with violent itching for some time now. At first we thought it was an insect problem but it turned out not to be the case. The itching continued and then grew to include a fever. Priests of the Host have been to him and can do nothing to help. What is more, the cause of this affliction escapes them. That was four nights past. At dawn toady Master woke up and felt completely normal save a mark on his belly. At first glance it appears to be a dragon mark but it shape is odd some how. Also it seams to have been burned into his chest with slight scaring on the edges. The mark does not cause Master Nicolas pain but I still think you and maybe one who is knowledgeable in the lore of dragon marks should look into the matter.
Master Nicolas has taken the experience in stride but he is quite distressed about the matter.
With concern,
Higgins Stallpen
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Background
Nicholas d’ddd was a typical, happy –go-lucky child. He fought with his sister Carmen. The two of them and their friends, Damian and Ellease, would get into trouble, get dirty, and then laugh about it around the dinner table. The four of them lived at Stallpen Manor in south Aundair on Ellease’s family estate. Nicholas and Carme’s father Alderann worked abroad but managed to visit every two to three months. It was a good life but all of that changed a few months before Nicholas’ 11th birthday.
Nicholas’ chest began to itch in Nymm. By the begging of Lharvion a rash covered his chest and then a fever nearly brought him to the point of death. The cleric did what they could but they could not find the cause or a remedy. On the morning of the twelfth day in Lharion Nicholas sat up and asked for breakfast as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Everyone was relived until they noticed a tattoo on his chest. Shortly thereafter Nicholas would learn that he had an aberrant dragonmark and that his life would never be the same again.
His mark was something that “we do not talk about openly.” The Stallpen Manor staff would get all quiet when he walked by but Nicholas knew they were talking about him. A gnome arrived at the manor at that time. He just stared at Nicholas, giving him the creeps. Carmen stopped teasing him and acted all formal around him, though she still called him Nicky. Ellease always seemed like there was some other place she needed to be. Alderann acted like everything was fine but when he looked at Nicholas, Nicholas could see deep sadness in his father’s eyes. Damian thought the whole thing was stupid and made it a point to let all know.
Physically Nicholas was fine, better than fine in fact, he felt alive. Whenever he was around open flames he felt a rush of energy, the fire seemed alive and it knew him. The flames would shit ever so slightly toward Nicholas as he entered a room. On one of these occasions Nicholas embraced the experience. Closing his eyes he could feel heat wash over him, it burned but that was okay. When he opened his eyes there was a ball of purple and green flames sitting in his hand. He swayed his arm through the air, mesmerized by the sight. Just as Nicholas was beginning to think about what was going on a cold wave hit him and he was soaking wet. Orvin, the gnome, was standing before him with a bucket in his hand and a scowl on his face.
In the next few months Orvin proceeded to “inform” Nicholas on what it meant to have a aberrant mark. These are some of Orvin’s instructions:
“The mark is an abomination.
All abomination must be squelched
You should consider yourself lucky that we don’t kill you and purge the mark.
Keep the truth about your mark hidden and never use it’s power.
And above all else NEVER have physical contact with a woman or even think about
having children”
This greatly troubled Nicholas. He did every he could to be anywhere Ovrin was not. Nicholas wound up spending most of his time in the manor’s chapel with Father Jeremy.
Ft Jeremy had a different view on Nicholas. He told him:
“You are not evil just different.
The Soveren Host will not abandon you.
Though it is wise not to advertise it, never hide who you really are.
Always be true to yourself.
Your power brings responsibility.
Learn to control it or it will control you.”
With these and other words Nicholas began to be whole again. He could hear the Host calling to him and it was beautiful. Nicholas decided that he would become a paladin like his father before him. Nicholas would be a defender of the faith and champion of the code of the Galifar.
Saying it was one thing, actually doing it was another. For the next five years Nicholas truly learned the meaning of discipline. Up before dawn every day for morning prayers, stringent physical training, and theological tutelage and debate were the routine. Most nights Nicholas past out as soon as he got to his “room,” it was like living in a closet. Orvin showed up twice a week to examine the mark and Nicholas’ behavior. Nicholas wrote letters when he could and received visitors a few times a year. During this time his friends were getting there education too. Carmen was on Karrnath learning at the main Deneith house enclave. Ellease was in the Eldeen Reaches learning the ways of the wild; she wrote letters but never visited. And Damian was at Arcanix, an apprentice warmage. From Damian’s letters his studies were even more grueling than his were.
As soon as Nicholas’ training was complete his house called him into service. He joined the Blademarks and spent the next year in living Khyber. Nicholas was sent to a regiment with the rejects, they were rowdy, wild, and out of control and none of them liked him. Nicholas represented everything they were not which pleased Sgt Hardass because it made his job all the essayer. Sgt Hardass was given instruction from Ebinneata to break Nicholas but no matter what he did Nicholas kept going and excelled in his position. Alderann finally stepped in and had Nicholas transferred to a unit where he could be recognized for his accomplishments.
Damian was in Nicholas’ new unit and for a time life was good. Although Nicholas stilled had a stigma attached to him things were not nearly as bad. For two years they climb the ranks to both become Gold Blades. They walk the line between countries at war never interfering but always there. When his tour was up Nicholas had a longing that there was something else he should be doing. He transferred over to the Defenders Guild for a year but he still felt out of place (he also got many lousy assignments.) One morning while he was praying Nicholas had a vision of Orcs battling demons in a desolate environment. He felt the call and knew what he had to do. He gave notice and headed for the Demon Wastes. Nichoals was given leave to go on the condition that he could be called back to Denrith if the so choose.
Nicholas joined the Maruk tribe (EBCS page159-160) and spent the next nine years of his with them.. It was a great time in his life, for the first time he was not judged on his lineage or his abnormalities but on who he was and what he did. Nichoals was at peace even amongst all the strife and bloodshed. His clan would be there till death and he was there from them.
When it was time to brand Nicholas with the Kalok Shash, the binding flame, his mark was made known to the tribe. Nicholas was not given the brand saying he already had it. Lhare Suusha saw the as an omen
“He was one of us before we knew him.
The Kalok Shash called Nicholas to us
His path is and always was tied to the Flame.”
Nicholas was not sure what to think of this so called “prophecy.” He let it be known that he did not want to be treated differently than any other clansmen. The tribe continued to think that Nicholas was special but respect his feeling.
In 998 when the Wastes grew quite this greatly worried the tribes. Whatever was going on it was not good. Denieth recalled Nicholas for a mission and being what things were he accepted. Before he left Lhare privately told him “when you return to us you will be ready.” Nicholas said “ready for what?” Without answering Lhare turned around and walked away.
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Glossary of Characters
Alderann d’Deneith: Carmen +Nicholas’ father and a Sentinel Marshal. I am going to give the DMs complete control of Alderann background
Beth d’Cannith: Jorlanna found Beth apprenticing to become a Cannith blacksmith and made a proposal. Beth would move to Aundair and keep tabs on Nicholas as he grew up in exchange Beth would be made a member of house Cannith. Nicholas remembers Beth as a nice woman from his youth.
Brunnen-G: (short for Brunnen Ghaash’kala it translates as “brethren ghost guardians”) it is what the Maruk orc tribe calls their warriors. The Brunnen-G Battle Hymn is a testament to the ways and honor of the tribe. When Nicholas was teaching Destrin Orc this is one of the song he taut him. The lyrics to the song appear in the next section.
Carmen d’Deneith: Nicholas’ older sister, by 3 years. Her personality comes from Carmen Sandiego, Where on Earth is? Carmen wants things her way and goes to great lengths to achieve this. She excels in the plot and intrigue game and is well known amongst the houses as a major player. She is a LN hexblade. The differences in philosophies have been a point of contention between her and Nicholas since they were children. Carmen would think up elaborate schemes and try to convince Nicholas to go along with it.; which he sometimes did just to see what she was up to. She cares about her brother though she would never admit it and is the only one to get away with calling him Nicky. Carmen’s favorite color is red.
Damian d’Deneith: Nicholas’ cousin and LG warmage. Damian is a bright but simple guy. He sees the world in absolutes of black and white. Shoot first ask questions later. If it is evil, blast it. If its you enemy, blast it. If something is bothering you, blast it. Despite all of this Damian is decent guy and one of Nicholas’ only true friends. They served together for tow years in the Blademark guild.
Ebinneatta d’Deneith: Carmen’s mother. From Nicholas’ perspective Aunt Ebby is a mean vile creature. He tried to detect evil on her one and it failed but Nicholas suspects that she has magic on her that changed his sight. Their relationship is like that of Hercules and Hera, though to Nicholas’ knowledge she has not tried to kill him.
Ellease d’Deneith: NG ranger and daughter of Thomas Stallpen. With Carmen and Nicholas always going at it and Damian just bulldozing through life Ellease was the usually the voice of reason in the group. Trying to keep the peace and them all out of trouble was her goal. The fact that she was not an air of the house like the rest of them made her feel that she needed to constantly maintain that she belonged in the house. She was betrothed to Nicholas before his mark appeared but that was changed there after. Nicholas has not seen or heard from her since he went off to the demon wastes.
Ghaash’kala: (Orc roughly translates as “ghost guardians”) It refers to the Orc tribes in the demon Wastes that believe it is their sacred duty to prevent the evil from leaving the wastes.
Higgins Stallpen: Thomas’ bother and lord of Stallpen Manor.
Jasper: Nicholas’ tutor and friend.
Kalok Shash: (the binding flame) The Ghaash’kala worship the flame. Their priests say that the flame consists of the souls of noble warriors, and that this force holds the powers of darkness at bay. The Kalok Shash is the same force revered by the church of the silver flame.
Lhare Suusha: elderly high priestess of the Maruk clan. LG cleric 9 of Kalok Shash. She spoke of Nicholas’ destiny being associated with the Kalok Shash/Sliver Flame.
Sgt Lee “Hard Ass” d’Deneith: People call him Sgt Hardass and he likes it! He was Nicholas and Damian’ CO for their first year in the Blade marks. His personality is like Sgt Harman of Full Metal Jacket and he did not like Nicholas. ’Nough said.
Maruk Ghaash’kala: the Maruk tribe gaurds the central passages through the Deamon Wastes. See pages 159-160 in the EBCS for more information.
Nicholas d’Deneith: the protagonist. He was born on Rhaan 27, 970 at moon rise when the moon Rhaan was full. Nicholas’ chest started to itch in the month of Nymm as Fernia became coterminous with the material plane. Nicholas mark manifested on Lharvion 12 as Fernia was still coterminous and the moon Rhaan was New.
Orvin: Gnome dragonmark lore master. Orvin was hired by Alderann to monitor the development of Nicholas’ aberrant mark. Orvin believes that the marks power is tied to Fernia (the plane of fire) and fears what will happen if the mark is exposed to further influences of Fernia. Orvin hates aberrant marked and believes they should all be eliminated. Orvin is sympathetic to Nicholas’ “condition” and has worked to educate him on the marks. But above all else Orvin has drilled into Nicholas the notion that he must never bear children and must never be intimate with a woman from any race.
Father Jeremy
Rhaan Moon: This is the moon that is associated with Fernia the sea if Fire
Stallpen Manor: A vineyard and estate of the Stallpen family. Also the place where Nicholas, Carmen, Ellease, and Damian grew up.
Thomas Stallpen: A ranger that worked for Deneith in the Eldeen reaches. He was a friend and fellow Blades Marksmen to Alderann for many years. Thomas’ heroics and service to Denieth had earned him entry into the house, however before this honor could be bestowed he was stuck down. He and most of his unit were decimated by Drifter Claw and his patrol. House membership was given to Thomas’ daughter Ellease in his stead.
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Orc Stuff.
I see the tribes of the Demon Wastes behaving a lot like Klingons. The Carrion tribes are ruthless bloodthirsty killers and the Ghaash’kala are honorable warriors but they still both behave like klingons. This is a website that has some Klingon music and their lyrics
members.shaw.ca/iksbloodoath/klingon_songs.htm
I can sing most of these by heart.
_________________________________________________________
Name: Nox
Home region: Droamm
Relatives: Parents unknown (deceased), The Daughters of Sora Kell (surrogate mothers)
Classification: Changeling Ninja
History:
Nox was the daughter of two changelings from a community on the very edges of the Eldean Reaches and Breland, living an anonymous life in the midst of turmoil. When the Daughters of Sora Kell, known as the Night Hags, came to Breland, they carved the country to pieces to make it a haven for all things dark. All the monsters that wished it made their home in the newly created country of Droamm and those who didn’t wish to live in a land infested with monsters had a choice: either leave or fight. A small skirmish uprising near the border was one of the only armed uprisings and was crushed quickly; the leaders of that uprising were Nox’s parents. It was hardly worth noting their deaths in the record books for their uprising was of little consequence, but what became of consequence was the actions of their little daughter. Nox, infuriated by the murder of her parents, tried to kill one of the Night Hags when she passed by on her way to the Great Crag. Sora Katra saw the potential in the little girl and took her back to the Great Crag where Nox’s intensity charmed the other hags and they kept the little changeling as their own.
At first, Nox held onto her identity and tried to remember her parents but as time wore on it became harder and harder. She was lavished with gifts and presents and given whatever she wanted. Before long, she was being raised as the equivilent of the daughter of the rulers of the brand new Droamm, her past life as just a simple girl from nowhere forgotten. She was treated as a daughter of the rulers of a country would be but with a twist: considering who her surrogate mothers were, she learned very different lessons than most children would. From Sora Katra, she learned the strategic mind of a consumate schemer. She was trained at the knee of Sora Maenya, developing her intensity as a young woman and as a warrior. She came to love Sora Teraza the most, however, blind Sora Teraza who seemed so inscrutable but who, in the night, Nox sang to and spent her time speaking with of everything out in the world beyond Droamm. She came to love all three Daughters of Sora Kell as her only parents and began on her training to become the perfect daughter that they needed and wanted; a perfect daughter and a perfect killer.
Nox began her training very young, trained constantly in strategy, drilled in becoming a great warrior, and in the ways of using her changeling abilities as an asset to be exploited. Ambition drove Nox to become a deadly killer; her stealth and speed became her greaest gifts, allowing her to blend into the background and strike out quickly before dissapearing without a trace. Her abilities were constantly tested as Night Hags showed off their little girl to the other prominent leaders of the monster races about Droamm. Nox was fearless, facing thinly veiled test after test to prove that she deserved the place she had in court and developed a controlling hand about her life, ambition driving her to be nothing but the best. All for the glory of Droamm, of course, and to make her mothers proud.
When her training advanced, Nox was sent out to act on behalf of the Night Hags in various conflicts and clashes as a peacemaker, but her peace always came at the end of a battle or a weapon. By that time, she was fully evolved into a young woman with an intense personality, used to getting what she wanted and never wishing to back down. She soon developed a reputation; word spread far and wide of a deadly assassin, raised on the knee of the Night Hags, who did their bidding. Wherever she went, a corpse or several would be left behind. She traveled to the lands of various nobles, such as the Queen of Stone (to keep an eye on the medusa leader) and the illithid Xor’chylic in Graywall (who she detested above all others). Her best times were with the Dark Pack, slaying bands of emmisary warriors from the Church of the Silver Flame that wished to annihilate the Dark Pack on Droamm lands. Her name grew in fame; her list of kills extended.
Returning to the Night Hags after her extensive travels, she was presented with weapons and a created messenger to better serve the court and officially designated their Breath in the world, their killer. She had gained enough reknown to carry their feared names out into the world. Yet she did encounter one problem with this idea – she was now perhaps a little too well known by their enemies. Operating without being found out when one’s reputation was growing like hers and so Nox tapped into her changeling abilities and invented the personae of Daeanira. Nox picked a young human who had served as a slave in the Great Crag as the facial model, slaughtered her, and assumed her identity to travel out of Droamm as the diplomatic arm of Droamm, wishing nothing but to be recognized by the other nations of Khorvaire. This allowed her access to places that she would have simply had to sneak into before and allowed her to assume a waiting allibi from the moment she created her crimes. Moreover, the personality that she cultivated for the capricious, gregarious Daeanira gave her the chance to let out a part of her personality unexplored in such a tightly controlled world as she had lived in until that time. Embracing the role she had to play, Nox developed quirks, habits and even friends and relationships in other lands as she travelled to make the alias of Daeanira beyond question. Once this personality was established, it allowed her to travel unencumbered like never before; her targets became higher profile and her renown as an assassin grew.
The only trouble came when Nox began getting too comfortable in the role of Daeanira, enjoying the undercover aspect of her life to a nearly pathological level. To Nox, everything was split down the middle inside herself; Daeanira is sweet, coy, charming and playful while Nox is the vicious, deadly, intense part of herself. Slowly she began to become more and more frustrated due to her life as Daeanira, experiencing a world that often confused and irritated her, a world in which she could not control her surroundings all the time. She began to lash out, her anger breaking her cover occassionally and giving way to unexpected bouts of rage or frustration. By the time she has been sent to the reception in Sharn, the two lives of Daeanira and Nox are clashing as Nox tries to live a foothold in both worlds.
Gear: Blades (God of war blades), Expediant Messenger, basic gear (requesting: bag of holding).