Played By: Cody Jackson
Character Name: Willow
Preferred Pronouns: They/Them
Race: Io’larian Syndar
Class: Cleric
Age: 40 (in the year 271)
Occupation: Member of the Community
Birth Place: Deer Clan Village – Faedrun
Backstory:
Where I come from we are given names that describe us and our role in life. Before we are born our mothers sit on the hilltop surrounded by the elders who gaze into a reflecting pool until a name comes to them. Through them we are given our names. I was born among my people and given the name Ruscoqui, but that name has since left me, slinking off into the woods like the wily fox it is.
I lived a happy life among my people, the Deer Clan. I was taught to hunt, to fish, to fight; and while I loved these things, nothing held a place in my heart like the nightly stories. Every night the elders would sound flutes and ring bells to gather the clan around a roaring fire where they would play instruments and tell the stories of our people. I was always the first to arrive, ready and waiting for the words of my beloved elders to spill forth and weave tales. When I was still young they started to bring me forward to recite the stories alongside them. People started to call me Parma; Book. “There goes Fox, the little story book,” the adults would call as I ran by.
I was a young adult when the news of the undead plagues became too common to ignore. It seemed that everyday reports of their activity moved closer to our home. We’d always believed that our remote village would keep us safe, but when your enemies don’t need to eat or sleep then they can march any distance and soon nowhere is safe.
Eventually we realized that we would need to move our people. Our hunters and tradespeople set about gathering as many supplies as they could and we packed up our village and began the journey toward the port cities. One night as we camped under the stars my grandmother, one of our elders, woke me. “Wake yourself, Eredh,” they told me.
“I am not, Eredh, grandmother. I’ve not heard that name before. Are you okay? It’s me, Ruscoqui.” They smiled at me, but their eyes were sad.
“No, Eredh. You are no longer Ruscoqui. That name will stay with our people.”
“What do you mean?”
“Change is in the air. It comes on the wind. There will come a time where we will run as far as we can and all that is left to us is the ocean. At that time our people will need to take to the seas to the new continent that we have heard about in rumors.”
“What does this have to do with me, grandmother?”
They let out a slow breath and let their eyes fall for a brief moment before locking onto mine. “We do not have the goods nor the money to secure passage for us all. The city-dwellers will not take us free of charge. We can afford to send only one and we must send someone who can carry our stories.”
My jaw dropped, “Not me! Why me? You are an elder! You know all of our stories and more. It should be you that goes!”
They held their hand up and I stopped speaking, “No, I am old. The elders are old. We need someone young who can plant roots on this new land. This is why your name is now Eredh, Seed.”
“I – I can’t do it. I can’t go alone.” My words choked in my throat.
“I will go with you,” they told me as they reached out and touched my chest over my heart and spoke again slowly, “here.” They gestured to the sleeping crowd around me and touched my heart again, “They will all be here”. They took a small pouch from around their neck and pressed it into my hands. “This is the money you will need for the ship. Go now, in the night. Your story will be told to the other’s in time so that they will greet you as a friend should blessings cause your paths to cross again, but for now you must vanish.”
“But – “ Their hand shot up again before I could speak.
“No, there will be no arguments. No discussions. You will go as Eredh and leave.”
I did as I was told, packed my things in silence, and slipped away from the camp with not much more than field rations, my war clubs, and a small bag filled with coins. I traveled alone for many days, my heart heavy with grief and loss, until I finally came to the walled city upon the sea.
I drew attention as I walked the streets. The middle siblings looked at me in my clothes and horns with derision; couples that passed would cling to each other when they caught sight of my war clubs. The few city-dwelling elder Syndar that I saw did their best to look away when they saw me. I’m not sure if they felt shame for themselves, or for me. The youngest siblings made a great show of pretending I did not exist. There were not many of them out and among the pedestrians of the city, but their aura of superiority spread far and wide.
Eventually I came to the port and found a ship that would be sailing to the new continent, Mardrun. I found the man booking passage and approached them with my coins in hand. They were a human with salt blasted skin, an unkempt beard, wild eyes, but most refreshingly, absolutely no pretension.
They greeted me with the first warm smile that I’d seen in days and took the coins from my medicine bag to count. When they were done they looked up at me and told me that it was enough to book a small space in the depths of their ship. Before I could answer, a middle sibling behind them chimed in to say, “Ah good down where this one won’t have to look at it. This one was getting worried when it managed to actually pull out some money.” My hand moved toward my club, but the human put their hand out and stopped me, spun on a heel and cuffed the middle sibling across the face. I stood in shock, but not nearly the level of shock the middle sibling clearly felt. The captain no longer sported their warm smile as they screamed at what I quickly realized was a member of their crew, or at least had been. By the time they were done screaming it was clear the Syndar had lost their employment.
The captain turned back to me, their smile back on their face, though clearly plastered over other feelings. “Well I have a deal for you instead. Can you work a rigging?”
“Uhh…”
“Can you tie a knot?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Well then we can teach you the rest. You join the crew for the journey and I’ll give you back half this coin when we get there and you can have a newly vacated bunk in the crew quarters. It’s much nicer than the deep deck, and don’t worry it’s mostly humans in there.”
I nodded politely, “This is a deal.”
I was led onto the ship and shown my bunk. I set my bag down and, for the first time since leaving, really took the time to look through it. Far to the bottom there was a narrow satchel. I opened it and found my grandmother’s flute with a note attached to it that simply read, “We will be with you” I cried for a while, but then I played.
***
The journey was not easy, but eventually we landed on the shores of Mardrun. When I stepped off the gangplank onto the docks I was immediately overwhelmed by the city laid out before me. The colonists had not been here long and yet they had already managed to establish a vast network of stone and wood buildings. It was a lot to acclimate to.
I spent my first days in the city with not much coin to my name trying to find a way to scrape by. I’d told the captain to hold onto the coins that they’d tried to return to me so long as they promised to offer a working transit such as mine to another of my kind. It was a gesture that felt noble at the time, but as hunger began to slip into my being it felt more foolish than anything.
Luckily for me Grandmother Sialag does not forget to smile upon their first-born grandchildren. It was not long before I met other First Born Syndar. They saw me out of place in the city and extended a lifeline. They told me that many that had lost their homes and tribes on Faedrun had come together to make a home on Mardrun in the woods and plains to the north. They called themselves The Shattered tribes, though to me the name seemed disingenuous for though they were from disparate homes they had not shattered, but instead came together.
I traveled north with these new friends until we came to their village that would become my home. There were so many people there and it warmed my heart to see them living in a way that looked familiar to me. As night fell the people gathered around the fire and bid welcome to the new members of their home and as people settled in I spoke, “I am Eredh. I was sent as a seed to plant the roots of my people on this continent. I have been called Parma, the book of stories. I am a storyteller and I would be happy to tell you all a story now.” I pulled my grandmother’s flute from a small satchel, played a phrase, and began to tell them all the story of The Spiders of the Deep Forest. My heart swelled as they watched and listened. This was not home, but it was starting to feel like it.
UPDATE:
Time passed on the new continent and Eredh grew with their new found family in the Shattered Tribes. Their roots grew deep within the community as their grandmother had hoped and one night they had a dream. The saw their namesake, the seed. It cracked open and a large willow erupted from within, driving it’s roots deep into the soil and thrusting it’s branches far out into the sky. They knew they were a seed no more. They took a new name Tathren, but in their time with the Shattered Tribes their home tongue and been steadily supplanted by the common use of trade speech. With their roots deep they knew who they were and were able to colloquially call themself by a name more readily understood by those around them – Willow.