1. Home
  2. /
  3. Wiki Pages
  4. /
  5. Page 36

Nyxaria Ravenbrooke

PLAYED BY: Sheila Rose

CHARACTER NAME: Nyxaria “Feonyx” Ravenbrooke

GENDER: Female

CLASS: Rogue

AGE: 70

RACE: Syndar

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Brown

OCCUPATION: Laborer

KNOWN SKILLS: Polearm

BIRTHPLACE: The old continent

APPEARANCE: Pale, long hair, thin

RELATIONSHIPS: Member of the rangers

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY: Born in a small fishing town seated on a river in Vandregonian territory. By 10 years of age, the human and syndar kingdoms have already joined together in their Grand Alliance against the undead plague. Forty three years later, the survivors of the war fled to the new world. Though looking for prosperous new beginnings, this proved difficult due to the land’s natives. Skirmishes and tension were common for the next few years. As things calmed down, the family set out to return to their roots by settling in the town of Crow’s Landing. The town began to deteriorate due to the negligence of the Crow’s Guard. During the harshest winter, a group clad in green came to the dying town’s aid. By pooling their resources, they were able to sustain the town and convince a noble house to invest in the town’s further survival. Come next spring, the town opted to appoint this group the new leaders of their domain. They became the Rangers of Crow’s Landing.

I’ve wanted to help out this new group, but I wasn’t good at combat. So I found someone to teach me. I found a few members of the town guard willing to help me out with this. They tried to show me many different ways to fight; how to kill one’s enemy at a long range with the bow. How to fight with others in a shield wall. They also tried showing me how to fight with a long spear. I sadly wasn’t very good at any of this. Thankfully the captain of the guard saw that I did seem to use the long spear defensively. So he brought me a staff. In a few months, I was able to block most blows sent my way. I had found my weapon style. I, however, had no idea how to go up to them and ask if I could join them. I’ve never been the greatest at talking to anyone. I felt disappointed with myself, so I went to the White Rabbit in town to drink. This bar is what got me into the Rangers.

This bar has been a part of the town ever since my family’s been here. The owners’ sons run it now; Jack and Jon Melteson. They are Vandregonians like myself. I’ve never really talked to them, but they’ve been nice. Luckily on this day, a number of the Rangers were also present at the bar. Having just returned from one of their outings, they seemed in good spirits. I took up a seat near the group, quietly listening in on their conversation as I debated how to approach them. The more I listened in, the more intrigued I became with their behavior and demeanor. However, social interaction has never been my strength. So, to help loosen my tongue some, I took a risk. I ordered a second pint. And then a third. And a fourth.

From there, I remember little. At some point I approached the green cloaks and struck up a conversation. I have no idea what was said, but apparently I made a lasting impression; the next thing I remember is a brawl. An angry brawl fueled on by chants and cheers of encouragement. I recall I was fighting someone they called Itchy. And I was beating him with my staff. From there my world went black. When I awoke, I did so with a horrible hangover and a green belt around my waist.

Today I leave for my first mission in the swamp with a few of them. My head is killing me.

  1. Home
  2. /
  3. Wiki Pages
  4. /
  5. Page 36

Thanderion Typhylos Wellintiar

Player: Michael Hannes

Character: Thanderion Typhylos Wellintiar

Age: 38

Race: Syndar

Eyes: brown

Hair: brown

Class: mage

Skills:

Arcane magic 10xp

Meditation 0xp +1

Thrusting weapons 0xp+2+5

Trade Merchant 5xp +3

Total xp costs= 26

Backstory:

Thanderion was born to a wealthy family in the Capitol city of the City of Seven Gates, on the continent of Faedrun. His father, Etherion, was a renowned duelist and very well practiced in fencing and made a living as a fencing instructor. Thanderions mother, Nytheria, was more practiced in magic than martial ability. From a young age Thanderion was taught how to fence from his father, training vigorously day in and day out. His mother wanted to teach him more about magic but he was more interested in his fathers teachings. Out of love for his mother he learned the basic arts of arcane magic, though it never held his interest for long. As he grew older Thanderion became almost as skilled as his father in fencing. Learning how to adapt and parry, his footwork and speed became weapons of their own.

As much as he loved fencing Thanderion grew to love something even more so, something so enticing that it pushed him to leave home and explore on his own. Women. Yes, Thanderion fancied himself as skilled with his tongue as his rapier. Dashing, suave, handsome, funny, sultry, well endowed, these are all words that people use to describe Thanderion. Perhaps it was the fact that his parents were married, something more rare in the Syndar communities, that caused Thanderion to become such a self-proclaimed romantic, but it didn’t really matter; Things seemed good. All was going well for Thanderion, until the plague.

With the scourge of undead rising Thanderion tried to find his family and make for an escape but could not find them. He searched the streets of Teilorian and finally found his father standing over his dead mother. With horror, Thanderion watched as his father turned and revealed his own undead visage, rapier in hand poised for attack. Though he was reluctant to fight his own father Thanderion valued his own life more.  Among the chaos in the streets, the father and son fought. Unlike most of the undead that Thanderion had seen before there was something strange about his father. Though his body moved slowly like the other undead, it was unmistakable that he had managed to carry over some of his fencing training. His footwork and posture, though pained, were obviously still that of his father.

Thanderion felt hopeless for he had never beaten his father and his reluctance to kill him weighed him down more than any armor ever could. He danced away from his father’s sword and parried the blows that came too close. It hurt to see his father’s signature maneuvering that had always been so effortless, become encumbered by the heavy body of an undead, but if the fencing carried over, maybe there was still more of Etherion inside. Thanderion continued to parry blows, never exchanging with his own, all the while he begged his father to recognize him. He plead with the shambling body to come back and be his father again, but there was no answer. The blows continued. With time Thanderion surrendered to his fate and knew that the man that was his father was gone and that he would have to kill what remained. With all the training Thanderion had fighting against his father he had learned many of his tells, but he had never been fast enough to take advantage of them. In his father’s slower, undead state all of those tells became openings. Etherion’s left leg was back and his foot turned outward signaling, as it always had, that he would attack to his left. Thanderion read the strike and parried it following up with a riposte straight to his fathers skull. The body slumped over and Thanderion dropped to his knees, but he couldn’t grieve for long as more undead rounded a corner and started to shamble towards him. Thanderion grabbed his fathers rapier to keep as a piece of his father and his old life to remember him by. He sprinted for the docks but was too late and the final ship began to leave.

In desperation Thanderion jumped into the sea and swam after the ship calling out to them. Finally, a rope was thrown over the side and Thanderion was pulled on board. Safe and alone at last Thanderion wept. No other family made it to the ships and Thanderion stared at his fathers rapier, replaying what just happened in his mind. As the ships made way they happened upon the continent of Mardrun. Thanderion became sort of a wanderer as he went from town to town. He settled in the city state of New Hope where he tried to become a fencing instructor like his father, but it wasn’t as profitable as he had hoped. Instead he made a living as a simple vendor selling foods, weapons and armor. He came by the armor through various means, either won from gambling or given as compensation for rapier instruction. As time passed Thanderion grew more lonely as he really had no one but himself. He tried to quell such feelings by visiting brothel after brothel, but alas even the tremendous amount of wine and women couldn’t help him feel better.

He spent so much time filling others holes that he had trouble finding someone who could fill the one in his heart. Until he happened upon the Brown Chicken Brown Cow. This brothel was more well kept and tidy unlike the others Thanderion frequented. The Mistress Marrah already new of Thanderions “appetites” and suggested a few of her girls to satisfy his thirst. Thanderion became a regular at Marrah’s feeling as if he was at home every time he stepped in the door. He also made good friends with Arameous, Marrah’s main boy in the brothel, who even taught Thanderion a few things about “thrusting”. He was staring to feel happy again, and then he met someone that would change his life forever, a new companion at the Brown Chicken Brown Cow by the name of Saffiyah. Her beauty rivaled that of Solara herself, her eyes as bright and blue as the vast oceans, her hair as gold and red as the burning sun, her smile as captivating as the full moon on a clear night sky.  She had to be his. Every time he looked at her his heart beat faster, his hands would tremble, and his jaw would drop. He had to have her. He had never felt a yearning like this. He purchased her company for a night and felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time, love. From a single night Thanderion had fallen in love with Saffiyah, as she did with him. Though it was risky seeing as Saffiyah was a companion and Marrah wouldn’t be happy, so they kept it a secret. Thanderion still used the services of other companions in the Brown Chicken Brown Cow but every time he always thought of Saffiyah. Perhaps one day they will be together freely without having to keep secrets. Perhaps one day they could live together happily. Perhaps one day they could marry, and have children of their own. Perhaps one day…..

  1. Home
  2. /
  3. Wiki Pages
  4. /
  5. Page 36

Morn Harthfield

Character Name: Morn Harthfield

Player Name: Peter Trevino

Bio-

Personality

Morn is very calm and reserved. Due to his hard upbringing, he is often thought to be older than he is. He avoids conflicts whenever possible but that doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to fight. Morn doesn’t like the high society it makes him feel uncomfortable and would rather be in a seedy bar drinking himself silly.

Basic History

Morn was born in a small village on the continent of Faedrun, and by the time he was the age of six, his family made the voyage over to Mardrun. The trip was harsh on Morn and he became very ill over the course of the venture. Death was kept at bay thanks to Morn’s own mother, but his memory of his life back on Faedrun and the voyage to Mardrun is nothing but a blur due to the fever that plagued him through their journey.

After only four years upon the new continent, bandits came upon the family, killing his parents and leaving the young boy to die after they have taken their plunder. It wasn’t easy; however, Morn had recently started to learn how to hunt from his father at the time and turned this skill into a means of survival. Through this he was able to take what game he could get to the local taverns and inns for some coin and food.

Around the age he was twenty, once again bandits crossed his path. There were only two of them but Morn was never a fighter. With great effort he was able to drive off one of the bandits and slay the other, however he gained terrible wounds in the process. His consciousness would flutter in and out for some time as he laid there bleeding out, but when he came to, he found himself being nursed back to life by a man who had stumbled upon his beaten body while traveling through the area.

The man said his name was Kaddock O Flannagain and that he was simply traveling through the area on his way home from visiting family. Kaddock decided to invite Morn back to his home in Baile Onoir where he could stay and recover, which Morn accepted. During his time with Kaddock, Morn learned how to fight from the local mercenary group, The Broken Blade Company. During his time spent there, Morn learned that Kaddock was a brewer and dreamed of one day opening his own tavern, and he imparted much of knowledge of food and drink to Morn.

Kaddock’s son Diarmaid though, had no interest in his father’s dream and instead wanted to join The Broken Blades to fight for glory and coin. When the war in the dirge began, Diarmaid left home to fight on the front lines. During this time Morn saved up his coin while working under Kaddock to buy a wagon and supplies, starting his traveling tavern the Wagon Wheel.

After several months on the road, a messenger found Morn and informed him that Diarmaid had been severely wounded in a battle in the dirge. Morn traveled with his tavern wagon to the medic tents of the many Ulven war camps to find and check in on Diarmaid. When Morn did find him, the healers told Morn that Diarmaid did not make it due to his wounds and infections. While in the camp Morn ran into Commander Volrok. Morn and the commander decided to drink to Diarmaid’s memory, and as the mead and beer set in Morn decided to challenge the commander to a drinking competition.

Morn, who had never lost a drinking competition before that night, woke up with the worst hangover he has ever had. There was a fuzzy memory of the commander shouting, “I WON!” at the top is his lungs in Morn’s ear as he was fading into unconsciousness. Impressed by the commander’s ability to endure so much intoxication, Morn approached the commander about joining the blades to offer the services of his tavern. The commander gladly accepted his offer and instead gave him charge of the Drunken Cardinal.

  1. Home
  2. /
  3. Wiki Pages
  4. /
  5. Page 36

Ulrik Graytide

CHARACTER NAME: Ulrik Graytide of Pack Graytide, Clan Grimward
PLAYED BY: Andrez “Peanut” Beltran
CONTACT INFO: Andrez Beltran on Facebook.
GENDER: Male
CLASS: Warrior
AGE: 30ish
RACE: Ulven
HAIR: Black
EYES: Brown
OCCUPATION: Warrior to Pack Greytide, of Clan Grimward
KNOWN SKILLS: Warrior trades
BIRTHPLACE:
APPEARANCE: Short; dark skinned
NOTABLE TRAITS: Carries trophies of defeated enemies with him. A gray rope
denoting his Clan.
RELATIONSHIPS: Mate to Tova Goldmane
RUMORS:
Some say he fought with Hunting Parties against the Mordok, and then the Civil War.
Some say he only fought in the Civil War.
Some say he only fought in the Dirge War.
Others say he’s never fought in any wars.
There a few who say he actively fled from battle.
There are some that say he isn’t even Graytide or Grimward, but fled from somewhere
else.
There are also some who say he sometimes is Graytide, and sometimes not.
BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

Ulrik Graytide is a warrior of some skill. He is not known outside of his Pack, except to maybe some of the Ulven who fought by his side during the Civil and Dirge Swamp Wars. No scars on his skin speak of battles won or lost. His symbol, the White Star, is not known to any Nightriver, Ironmound, or Stormjarl. No talesinger sings tales of his deeds.

Ulrik himself is very typical Grimward. He is distrusting of those outside his Clan and carries an extreme dislike for non-Ulven. He is also a very typical Graytide; quick to offense, quick to brawl, but very cunning. He likes to provoke a challenge, and settle things with fists.

When he speaks on the past, most of it is dismissive or divisive in nature. He likes to speak of the accomplishments of Khulgar Graytide in killing colonists, and showing of the trophies he has taken from those he has claimed to kill. When he speaks on the present, he lets all know how much he hates the current political arrangements. The indignity of having the colonists on Mardrun, of the result of the civil war, the cowardice of Stormjarl, and the retreat from the Dirge War. When he speaks of the future he speaks of a resurgent Graytide; how they will push the Mordok back again, how they will strike down those who oppose them.

The only known Companion to him is his mate, Tova Goldmane. A typical Goldmane, she is quick to laugh, to boast, to fight. The two make a distinct pair, and they are either getting along greatly or quarrelling about something. Tova claimed Ulrik as her mate after showing considerable interest in him. Ulrik, a warrior by nature, noted it but did not move on the interest. He was focused on the next fight. She, on the other hand, did not take no for an answer, and demanded he court and become her mate. Ulrik knew of her, and decided it was not a bad proposition. Or at least that is what he tells those who ask. There seems to be genuine affection between the two. Many a foolhardy person has made the mistake of commenting on it, and getting a comment or fist from one of the pair. She has been by his side, and he hers, for as long as either have known them. Perhaps less a fighter, she is deadly with a bow.

Ulrik is known to disappear from Pack Graytide and Clan Grimward territory without saying much (or anything), and is gone for a variable amount of time. Sometimes it is quick; sometimes it is much longer. Up until recently, he has never taken Tova with, nor has she concerned herself with it. They are two distinct parts to a whole. However, she has expressed her interest in coming with him now. Despite these wanderings, Ulrik is never too far to respond to his Warleader’s commands. When summoned, he appears. None ask where he comes from, or the new trophies he has. He is a Graytide, and war is in their blood. If he actually is a Graytide. Some question it as he is not remembered as clearly as others. Some don’t; remembering clearly. Either way, when he is with Graytide he is with Graytide, and has never given them doubt.

With possible war on the horizon, it is a good time to to have a warrior such as him.

  1. Home
  2. /
  3. Wiki Pages
  4. /
  5. Page 36

Tova Goldmane [Hersir]

CHARACTER NAME: Tova Goldmane of Pack Goldmane, of Clan Grimward
PLAYER NAME: Kathy Beltran
GENDER: Female
CLASS: Warrior
AGE: 30ish
RACE: Ulven
HAIR: Blonde
EYES: Blue
OCCUPATION: Warrior of Pack Goldmane, to Clan Grimward
KNOWN SKILLS: Archery, Combat
BIRTHPLACE: Pack Goldmane territory
APPEARANCE: Short, powerful Ulven warrior
RELATIONSHIPS: Mate to Ulrik Greytide
RUMORS:
BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

Tova Goldmane is a paragon of the endangered Pack Goldmane. She is quick to laugh, easy to joke, loves to talk, but also is incited to anger and quarrelling quickly, but falls back to good mood just as quickly. She has been compared to the element of air by her mate, Ulrik Graytide. Mercurial of mood and temperament.

Tova Goldmane is one of the few remaining Goldmanes on the continent of Faedrun. During the initial wars with the Invaders, the Goldmane warriors were slaughtered when they went to announce the truce. She had been there to see Khulgar Graytide bring the bodies of the slain back.

Tova, a girl at the time, had been too young to understand why her father and brothers had been killed. Mistakes and the ironies of fate meant nothing to her yet. The sight of her father, and brothers, lying dead in the field after the Graytides returned them meant something. It meant anguish, and despair, and something she had never really felt until now. Something like anger, but more, hotter, darker. The day her pack was ended by the Invaders meant hate. Hate for all of them.

That hate could have poisoned its way into her heart and made her as vile as the Invaders. It could have eaten at her, making her self-destruct in booze and rage as many others. It could have meant she would have brought shame upon her name, her families, and her pack. All that could have happened. What did happen was the hate was tempered. While they funeral pyres burned as hot as her hate, Khulgar Graytide, who brought vengeance upon the hated group of Invaders. They killed the intruders until the Longfangs had intervened. Tova did not know who the
Longfangs were, but her hate for the Invaders bled over to the Longfangs. Who were they to deny the Goldmanes their due?

Tova watched as her Pack split. She knew what that meant; Goldmane would die. Those who had relatives in other Packs left to join them. Tova did not have the luxury. She was one of the few to go with the Graytides to their home. And why not? They had delivered Goldmane justice, and Khulgar was married to a Goldmane. They were close enough as kin. Besides, the Graytides were strong, fierce warriors. She would be a strong, fierce warrior as well. Tova trained. She worked hard with her adopted Graytide family, doing chores, chopping wood, helping in the fields. She did all the things a warrior would need. Her true calling was in the use of the bow; a truer shot was never had. Scuffles are common with the Graytide, and she took her knocks and bruises as well, but she fast became accustomed to it and the Pack began to know her reputation for endurance in a fight.

During the Ulven Civil War, she was kept home at Pack Graytide. While she had wished to go to war and slay her hated enemies, Khulgar ordered her to protect the home front. Goldmanes were too few now to throw away. Besides, someone needed to stay back and protect her kin if the Invaders did something treacherous.

During this time, a Graytide began to take her interest: Ulrik Graytide. She had not known him, which was strange; the Pack was overly large. He appeared with a group of Graytide after a hunting raid during the Civil War. When she had asked the other warriors, they simply said he was a traveling Graytide. That was perhaps true, as Graytide often traveled and Tova might not notice him if her was gone for long periods. And he often was; he journeyed to hunt Mordok, Invaders, and treacherous Ulven. He never came back with scars. The lack of scars often spoke of cowardice or noviceness. When she spoke to his Packmates, they stated neither. He was seen in the shieldwall, but sometimes he went hunting by himself. Both spoke to her of skill. Tova, a Goldmane as she was, let her interest be known. He seemed…less enthusiastic than she deemed appropriate. As such, she made sure her overtures were direct and deliberate. He still seemed to not commit. Finally, she told him they were to court, and that was the end of it. And it
was. She did not question him about why and what happened when he left, and he did not question her about what she did while he was gone. The pair were obviously in love and when seen were either affectionate, or quarreling. After a year of courtship, they were mated. He still wandered, and she still followed her own muse.

It was not until after the Civil War that Tova saw her first Invaders. A merchant group from Ironmound passed through with a couple of Ulven. However, part of the group was a Syndar barkeep. As there was no ongoing feud between them, she kept her distance. She did not know if she could control herself, and would not disgrace her Clan and her Pack. Her observations of them deemed them strange. Their guards were armored well; some so well only Ironmound warriors could compare. This made her wonder about what else she did not know. She decided that she would go with Ulrik next time he went out. He had asked why, an she had told him because she wanted to see what these Invaders were like. He just nodded, knowing when she set her mind to something it was best to go along with it.

  1. Home
  2. /
  3. Wiki Pages
  4. /
  5. Page 36

Kylia

PLAYED BY: Kathy Beltran.
CHARACTER NAME: Kylia
GENDER: Female
CLASS: Mage
AGE: 29
RACE: Syndar
HAIR: Blond
EYES: Blue
OCCUPATION: Phoenix adventurer
KNOWN SKILLS: Archery, Arcane 1
BIRTHPLACE: Born on the Fire Isle
APPEARANCE: Red dress, blond hair and beautiful
RELATIONSHIPS: Born and raised on the Fire Isle, she is friends with all of the Phoenix.
RUMORS: “Have you seen her after a few drinks of Phoenix wine?”
BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:
Kylia is… Kylia. Upon first glance, she is just like every other Phoenix of the Fire Isle. Her red dress, flowing blonde hair with pointed tips poking out on both sides, her glowing blue eyes, all are nothing compared to her bubbly, friendly, talkative personality. But, not immediately. When you first meet her, her lips are sealed. Earning her trust so that she is comfortable with you is the key to unlocking her ‘ray of sunshine’ personality. Or Offer her a few drinks of Phoenix wine. She was born on the island, shortly after they found it. She lived her life in simple happiness, never leaving the island. As a matter of fact, she’s hardly ever seen someone who isn’t Syndar. Humans and Ulven are still very new to her. She would spend some time on the harbor, watching the new and different sailors moving their goods from the ship to shore and back again. Always with wide eyed curiosity.
After her friends Anariel and Reggie started leaving the Fire Isle, they came back with great stories about giant kitty cats, tweety birds, and a giant basil bush. Hearing all the stories was fun, so how much more fun would it be to go on an adventure with them? And Reggie.
She took a trip on the boat with the one with the funny hat. And so, her adventure began.

  1. Home
  2. /
  3. Wiki Pages
  4. /
  5. Page 36

Saffiyah

Saffiyah Glaedwine was born in Tielorrian in the year 246 to Gairell and Tayleth Glaedwine. They were both scholars, following the moon goddess Lunara. Saffiyah had deep green eyes, pointed ears, and blonde hair with a glow of red to it. At the tender age of four, Saffiyah and her parents fled from the falling kingdom they called home to go to the new land, known as Mardrun. Unfortunately, being so young at the time, Saffiyah has precious few memories of her birth place, and not nearly as strong a connection with their culture as Gairell and Tayleth would have liked.
From a young age they taught her the importance of the mana stream, their life force, and they attempted to educate their daughter in their ways so that she may also be a scholar. After their homeland was overrun with the undead, they clung onto their daughter tighter than most parents might have. It was their full intention to raise her to work with them in a laboratory and study in a library and be safe. As Saffiyah grew up, it became clear to her father that this was not a life she would accept, but her mother would not have it.
At 22, still quite young for a syndar, Saffiyah requested that she be allowed to travel North and explore their new world, as she had not been allowed to see any of it yet and only had stories and her own imagination. She pleaded with her parents to let her, telling them that she believed the answer to their race’s struggles with the mana stream would be found somewhere in the new land. She had heard stories of the creatures in the Dirge Swamp and wanted to see them herself. While Saffiyah told her parents that she wanted to adventure to research, she knew this was only an excuse to escape. The life her parents had planned for her was nothing like the life she wanted for herself. Their denial of her wish hit her hard. And considering she had no money of her own, she knew if this kept up she would always be reliant on her parents. So she devised a plan.
For as long as she spent thinking about what she would do, she was still young, and had not much worldly experience… so her plan did not quite go as she had hoped.

Saffiyah stole a few pieces of jewelry from her family and sold them for silver pieces. This gave her what she thought would be enough to take her safely to the Northern lands where she could escape the colonies and roam freely and adventure. She packed a few items, clothing and a book which she kept her thoughts. She then gathered a party of humans and offered them coin to make sure she could travel safely, and left a note for her parents. This would apologize and explain her reasons. One of her biggest regrets in life is that she was unable to have a proper goodbye with them.
For the first couple days, her party headed up toward the Dirge completely unmet by other travelers. It was days before she saw her first Mordok. The creature was ugly to behold, and it put her on edge to finally see one in person. She had not expected to be so nervous as she knew its intelligence would be far less than her own. Nevertheless she thought of the stories she’d heard about them and hung back while her men advanced on it. The creature was… timid. It backed away from the men coming to it, but they struck it down quickly and the whole group kept traveling.
In the following days they were met with scattered mordok here and there. It was clear to Saffiyah that the further North they traveled, the less meek these creatures seemed to be, yet they had not struggled too greatly to slay them and carry on. After weeks of travel, they ran into a larger group of Mordok than they had seen yet, only having faced 2 or 3 at a time at the most so far. Now with even numbers on both sides, the Mordok were more vicious and ruthless than she had seen them be before.
Even as her men landed great blows, the creatures kept coming at them until her party was in danger. It was as if the Mordok had a goal- not to kill, but to see how much damage they could do to them. Just as Saffiyah thought this might spell the end for her and her adventure, they were aided by a storm of arrows and swords. It was a pack of Ulven, sweeping through to clear the Mordok in the area. She offered them money as gratitude for their rescue, but the ulven would not take it. “We do not need payment for something our morals dictate we do,” one of them told her. They guided her wounded party to a tavern to rest, and parted ways.
Saffiyah paid for food, drink, healing, and rooms so that her and her men would have a chance to recuperate. All this, while necessary, was also quite costly. Depressed, she sat in a corner of the tavern with a drink, scribbling in her book and trying to devise another plan, one that would make her the money she needed to continue on. She was starting to lose hope, so she began writing down some of the songs she heard people singing instead to get her mind off of her troubles, even for just a little while.
“Whatcha got there?” she heard a gruff voice calling.
Saffiyah looked over see a human man swaggering over to her. His clothing was of fine, rich colored velvet, and he wore many large jewels on his fingers and around his neck. This was a wealthy man.
“Just doing a little writing” Saffiyah replied, carefully closing her book.
He came quite close to her.
“I have no interest for stories,” he started, “but I am interested in what I’m seeing”
The man looked her over, spending more time looking at certain areas of her body. He offered her a little purse of coins to stay the night with him in his room and “have some fun”.
This was not the first time Saffiyah had been asked this in her travels. Between the different taverns they stopped at to rest, she had probably heard this question four or five times now. So it became reflex to say no.
The man chuckled and pulled out another small purse full of coins, claiming he would double his original offer.
Saffiyah blinked. Am I actually considering this? She thought to herself. Entertaining the idea, she realized that it was going to be the best, and possibly only way to earn the money needed to complete her journey. She put on a false smile and accepted the man’s offer.
In the morning, she collected the promised silver, pocketed it, and went on her way, a slight smile on her face. The thing she found most surprising about the experience was that she did not hate it. She had accomplished something. It was easy and not unpleasant. She gathered her men, who had clearly also had…. restful nights… and with newfound confidence and invigoration they continued on.
They went quite far North before being stopped in the road by a large group of men who introduced themselves as merchants. They were called in to look at their wares, and before they knew it, they were surrounded by more men than they had spotted originally. These were no merchants… they were bandits.
Alarmingly outnumbered, Saffiyah’s men were taken down easily, slain before her very eyes. She cried out as she was grabbed from behind by one of them, who was pinning her arms down so she could not move, and could not cast.
“What should we do with this one?” The bandit called out to an apparent leader. He was a large man, wearing the best armor of any of them. He looked down at Saffiyah from atop his horse and size her up.
“We will take her to be sold on the black market,” he exclaimed.
The following days were a torturous existence for Saffiyah. These men were rough with her, and she was not well fed or watered. They bound her tightly at the wrists with ropes and took turns being the one in charge of holding it. They made her walk behind the caravan for long stretches, and if she couldn’t keep up, it was common for someone to yank on her lead, making her lurch forward and fall. Between the bruises on her knees from hitting the ground hard, and the red, raw skin on her wrists, she was unsure which hurt more.
It could have been days or weeks, she could not keep track. But eventually the leader called out to them that they were to part ways and sell their wares at different locations so it would be harder to track them down. Saffiyah was sent with four men to be sold into slavery. After a days travel, they exclaimed that they must be getting close. There were small streams of smoke in the distant sky that they could see above the tree-line. This would likely be people cooking or a blacksmith working. Signs of a gathering of people.
Saffiyah’s stomach lurched and she feared that whatever fate held for her, it could be worse than what she had already endured. But she was incredibly lucky. To her relief they were met on the road by another Ulven. Yet as they got closer she saw he somehow didn’t seem as friendly as those she had been rescued by, his face was stern and his demeanor was frightening. She rethought her original sense of relief and realized that this could be who she was being sold to.
The ulven interrogated the men who kept her, and upon deciding that they were bandits, he drew his weapon and attacked them. The lunk who had been holding her rope dropped it to draw his own sword and she saw her chance. Knowing that four-on-one were not good odds for the Ulven, she ran as fast as she could, trying to get away before they could slay him and grab her again. She raced toward the smoke, thinking that she might be safe if only she could reach the town as a free woman.
Her entire body ached, having been so worn down from her lack of food and water, she found it harder and harder to make herself run. Saffiyah’s legs felt like lead. She stopped, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. There were gentle rustles in a nearby bush, she ignored them, whatever animal was there would not concern her now. She used her teeth to untie her bindings, rubbing gingerly at the tender skin on her wrists. Her head was spinning. She closed her eyes and tried to ground herself. When she opened them again, she saw a Mordok approaching her, weapon held high. She gasped and quickly channeled mana and sent it flying a few feet back with a surge of energy. Turning back toward where she had come from, she saw the Ulven, charging up the road, looking enraged. She ducked out of his way and looked, just in time to see that the Mordok had already advanced on her again. He took it down with a few heavy blows and she stood there, paralyzed with shock.
When the creature lay dead, he fixed his gaze on Saffiyah, between the blood splattered on his face and the fierce look upon it, her heart skipped a beat. She secured her footing and just as she was about to push off running, the Ulven grabbed her by the wrist, hard.
“Stop running off on your own! You are going to get yourself killed!” he growled.
She drew back in fear and winced from the pain she felt surging from where he held her.
The look on Saffiyah’s face must have been obvious fear, for the Ulven softened his own expression, and his tone. He released his grip on her wrist, but held her at the shoulder to make sure she was steady. She looked him over, noticing by the way he held himself that some of the blood on him was definitely his own.
“I am Toralf Grimmsvulker,” he said, “and I belong to a group whose main duty is ridding the world of the bandit threat. The Wardens of the Great Wolf.”
“My name is Saffiyah” she choked out.
“Well Saffiyah,” he said through bated breath, “you should come with me. I know someone who can care for you. You’ll be safe with us.”
Knowing full well it could be a trap, she decided to trust him. She really had no other choice.
Toralf started toward the town, and Saffiyah followed.

  1. Home
  2. /
  3. Wiki Pages
  4. /
  5. Page 36

Elegast – [Renowned]

PLAYED BY: Jacob Veldhuizen

CONTACT INFO: https://www.facebook.com/jacob.veldhuizen

CHARACTER NAME: Elegast

NICKNAMES: “Elegast the Wanderer”, “El”, “Ellie”(childhood)

GENDER: Male

CLASS: Cleric

AGE: 69

RACE: Syndar

HAIR: Blonde

EYES: Blue

KNOWN SKILLS: A skilled draftsman, former teacher, capable soldier, and survivalist

BIRTHPLACE: Born in the City of Seven Gates, The Kingdom of Tielorrien on Faedrun

NOTABLE TRAITS and APPEARANCE: A reserved initial demeanor opening into a thoughtful and curious personality, Elegast is tall with short hair and a beard.

RELATIONSHIPS: Fulwin (best friend, M.I.A)

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

198-210: Elegast is born to Llwellenar and Faunalyn in the City of Seven Gates in the Kingdom of Tielorrien on the continent of Faedrun.  The first of two children, Elegast is raised in the loving care of both parent’s extended families.  His Father comes from a farming commune hugging the outside of the city’s large eastern wall while his mother comes from a smaller family living close to the academy building of the Bellath-ah-Dien, also in the eastern quadrant of the city.  With both families living close enough to walk to within a day, Elegast is raised in the wealth of life that each community can offer.  Elegast is shielded from much of the horror of the undead plague in his early years.  He grows up playing with his brother, cousins, and friends in the fields and forests of his paternal family’s lands, growing strong of heart and spirit in the country air.  With his maternal family, Elegast is exposed to the beauty and famous culture of the grand City of Seven Gates.  Trips through the gates and into the city center spark his intellectual and creative mind.

210-214: The truth of the war against the undead plague slowly builds in Elegast’s mind.  No longer a simple game of Knights vs Undead to pretend at with his friends, but a harsh reality when a schoolmate’s father does not come home.  Then another student’s mother.  A cousin.  Neighbors traveling between cities.  Soon it becomes all too common to have multiple relatives or acquaintances lose friends and family.  A tale of a Tielorrien soldier meeting his undead brother in battle circulates Elegast’s school.  Rumor, gossip, truth, or myth Elegast does not know but the story takes hold in his heart.  Imagining himself in the place of the knight and coming upon the undead face of his own brother in battle breaks his heart, and he weeps.  Elegast promises himself this will not be his fate.  He begins in earnest to learn whatever he can about the undead and how to stop them.  Whatever golden innocence there is in childhood slowly fades, as Elegast begins to train himself for war.

214-216: Elegast begs his family to let him study with the Galendhidur early.  After much initial resistance, they acquiesce in the face of his stubborn desire.  Elegast does well in his training and is among those selected to receive further training as an officer candidate.  During his time at Galendhidur Elegast meets a fellow officer candidate named Fulwin.  The two become fast friends.

216-220: Elegast is finally of age and officially enlists in the Tielorrien military.  He joins many of his peers in this fight.  Few can remember a time without the threat of undead in the world and they are eager to join.  Elegast is commissioned as a second lieutenant in The Grand Alliance under Knight Arryn of Tielorrien.  His close friend Fulwin is also sent to serve under Knight Arryn as her first lieutenant in charge of Logistics and Information. 

220-224: Elegast returns from leave to his second deployment under Knight Arryn.  Knight Arryn has been tasked by the Tielorrien command with testing a new military unit called “Herders”.  Small units of mobile skirmishers designed to perform hit and “jog” attacks on undead troops.  Performing small hits on targets and then retreating to a position of safety while still being visible to the enemy.  Their goal is to “herd” or lure opposition forces into advantageous positions for the larger Alliance forces to engage, as well as ensuring that smaller enemy forces aren’t able to peel off from the main force.  Elegast is promoted to first lieutenant and placed in command of the experimental new unit.  To his delight, he begins working closely with his best friend Fulwin to organize and optimize the Herders actions.

224-226:  At the end of his second deployment Elegast is given a six-month leave.  Before his departure from Knight Arryn’s service, he is awarded a commendation for his leadership of The Herders and promoted to Captain.  He is informed that he is being given command of the small new Galendhidur Herder Training Academy in his home City of Seven Gates.  Leaving the front Elegast is accompanied by Fulwin who has also recently earned a promotion and leave.  Elegast is proud but exhausted from the eight years of war.  His emotions are mixed during his time away from combat.  Thinking the battle against The Undead would have ended before now he is discouraged that no major victory has occurred or seems likely in the coming months if not years.  And while his success as a Herder and upcoming teaching position bring him a physical break and new mental challenge he cannot break loose from a growing cloud in his soul.  The following two years are tumultuous for Elegast.  He finds himself to be a capable instructor and produces several exceptional soldiers. At the same time, he witnesses the significant loss of Tielorrien homeland to The Undead.  The letters he receives from Fulwin, now working as a Logistics and Intelligence Liaison to the human militaries, do little to encourage him.  The Grand Alliance remains stable but is less able to send aid to the Tielorrien and other Syndar nations with each passing month.  Concerned for his family’s safety he moves his parents nearer to the Galendhidur Academies while also requesting his brother’s commission be moved to his training academy as an instructor.

226-232: In the ensuing six years Elegast remains the head instructor for the small Galendhidur Herder Training Academy.  His skill as a teacher grow with each passing year, but as the tide continues to swell against the favor of the Tielorrien People, Elegast becomes restless and itches to return to battle.

232-234: His chance arrives all too quickly.  Major losses in the Tielorrien homeland have caused the return of the main Tielorrien military force from their positions in The Grand Alliance.  Elegast receives word that he is needed on the battlefield.  His commission is once again transferred to a now older and visibly worn down Knight Arryn.  With her physical capabilities greatly handicapped Elegast often takes Knight Arryn’s place on the battlefield after spending long hours under her consultation.  Fulwin, having returned with the main Tielorrien force, also joins Knight Arryn to consult and strategize but his visits are far and few between as his presence is needed across the embattled army.  Before long, fighting moves to the walls of the capitol City of Seven Gates, and then, into the streets.

235: For a brief moment time stands still for Elegast.  From the center two spires in the middle circle of the capitol, Elegast looks out across the burning city of his birth and feels its death.  The May’Kar have turned and betrayed The Grand Alliance and now The Undead march innumerable in the heart of the City of Seven Gates.  Snapping back to the task at hand, Elegast resumes his run along the spire parapets.  He is coordinating what remains of the fallen Knight Arryn’s command and a handful of civilians in retreating to the main force harbored in boats along the river cutting through the city center. Waiting for him at his appointed barge is Fulwin.  Taking their leave with the rest of the Tielorrien military Elegast’s barge passes through the final river gate and into open water.  Looking back through the night air, the light of a thousand fires dance across soot-covered faces as the last of the Tielorrien people leave their home.

236-250: The next 14 years evaporate in a cruel loop of long marches and anxious waiting followed by short intense bursts of fighting and running.  The refugees of Tielorrien quickly become dispersed across the remaining safe zones of Faedrun.  Elegast, Fulwin, and the remaining 20 or so soldiers left from Knight Arryn’s command join what remains of The Grand Alliance and are tasked with guarding refugees as they make their way from war zones to safe havens.  On his few days rest Elegast visits his mother, father, and few relatives living in a refugee settlement.  They give him momentary respite from a world torn apart and give him what little information they receive of his brother fighting with the Vandregon army.

250-253:  The settlement where Elegast’s family lives is raided.  None survive.  Elegast loses contact with his brother and is unable to get word through military channels as to his state.  Elegast and Fulwin are two of now 12 remaining soldiers from their days under command of Knight Arryn.  They move to the southern lands of Vandregon, fighting as a small force helping to protect port towns.

253: Elegast is severely wounded in the right leg while fighting outside a port town in southern Vandregon.  Against his will, Elegast is forced onto a ship bound for the new world by Fulwin.  Tears in his eyes Elegast begs Fulwin to take him back to the fight but Fulwin pushes him onto a bunk in the lower hold and quickly ties his hands to the post.  Fulwin holds Elegast’s head in his hands and places his own forehead against Elegast’s.  Sweat and tears mix as the two say whispered goodbyes.  Slowly, Fulwin rises and walks away from Elegast and off the boat.  As the boat begins its journey to a new land Elegast hears audible groans and gasps of terror from above.  Furiously fighting to undo his bindings Elegast manages to hobble up the stairs to the main deck and is overcome by what he sees across the water.  Making their along the coast is the largest horde of undead Elegast has ever witnessed.  In a fit, he tries to climb overboard but is easily overpowered by those standing next to him and restrained. Furious he frees an arm and attempts to strike those who hold him back.  His fist meets only air.  The loss of blood and brother catching up with him, he passes out. While crossing the ocean Elegast’s leg becomes infected and his journey is spent below deck in the makeshift infirmary.  Despondent and in a feverish daze he clings to life.  Arriving at Newhope, Elegast is carried off the boat on a stretcher and onto a new world.

254-266: Once fully recovered Elegast spends the next weeks and months pleading with local officials and any arriving ships to return to Faedrun in the hopes that he may find and rejoin his men.  Few share his interest in returning and the news that reaches the new world is grim.  No ships are sent back.

Elegast builds himself a small hut on the outskirts of Newhope near the shore. He spends his evenings watching for incoming ships in the faint hope of the arrival of his brothers in arms.  No such ship comes.  Elegast begins to withdraw from the small connections he has made.  He continues to pick up small jobs to survive but rarely speaks to anyone more than necessary.  Falling into a deep depression Elegast is consumed.  Months pass.  Seasons creep by.  And then his darkness breaks.  What’s left, however, is not whole.  He has been hallowed out in some sad small way.  Elegast kneels into a position he has not taken since his arrival on Mardrun.  Meditating for two full days, Elegast rises with the sun on the morning of the third day.  Shakily standing from his kneeling position Elegast stumbles to his cupboard and hungrily devours what food and water he has.  Resting for a moment, Elegast drags his dusty armor from under his bed and walks out of the hut.  Finding a lone tree atop the cliffs, Elegast digs a hole with what strength he can after two full days of meditating.  He slowly and silently buries his Tielorrien armor, placing a small pile of rocks over the mound.  After saying a small prayer for those he will never see again and those left behind, Elegast returns to his hut.  Packing quickly, Elegast places essentials in his pack and everything else in a pile against a wall.  The only reminder of his life on Faedrun he keeps is a lightly woven and intricately decorated tunic.  Taking his tinderbox, Elegast lights a small flame in the pile of belongings against the wall.  As the flames begin to grow Elegast places his pack across his shoulders and walks out as smoke fills the hut.  As fire creeps out of the door, Elegast watches for a moment before turning and walking down a path and away from Newhope, a hollowed wanderer.

267:  A streak of blue flits across Elegast’s mind.  Suddenly a massive wave crests and crashes down smashing Elegast against the rocks.  Just as suddenly the water is gone and Elegast stands on dry arid ground.  Again the blue streak flits across his vision and behind him.  Elegast turns just in time to see the blue streak fly face first into him.  With a start, he wakes up.  The sun has just begun to peak over the horizon.  Collecting his things Elegast stands, pausing for a moment.  It has been 12 years since he walked away from the world.  Looking back at the retreating night, Elegast turns and begins walking toward the rising dawn.

  1. Home
  2. /
  3. Wiki Pages
  4. /
  5. Page 36

Bjorn

Skills
Archery
Staff Weapons
Lore Ulven
Armor Proficiency
First Aid
Lore Survival

Backstory

Bjorn was born to small family, just two parents and his mother’s mother. His father a farmer and mother a hunter, they taught him from an early age how to make the most of the land and how to survive on his own. While growing up, he was fairly sickly and kept to the home. During this time his grandma told him stories of the Ulven and their accomplishments, beginning his interest in the Ulven lore.

As he grew older, Bjorn decided that the best way he could help his clan was to join the Lorespeakers and carry on their history. He took an apprenticeship with his clan’s local Lorespeaker at age 8. Over the years, he studied diligently under his master, learning the stories of his people.

He was 18 when the Lorespeaker conspiracy came to light. Upon learning that the men he’d idolized were nothing more than liars. He fled when he realized he’d be rounded up along with the others. Bjorn carved the runes for Lorespeaker onto the back of his right hand, a reminder that he was once fooled by them as well.

Having become disillusioned by the conspiracy, Bjorn turned his back on the clans and built a life for himself in the woods.

Read more: http://lasthopelarp.proboards.com/thread/1884/ty-springer-new-bjorn-engmann#ixzz5dVVfupZl

  1. Home
  2. /
  3. Wiki Pages
  4. /
  5. Page 36

Aramaeyis

Aramaeyis was born a small, frail Syndar child in the kingdom of Tielorrien in the year 245 but loved by his parents nonetheless. Miraluya Whisperwind was a performer, recognized for the fluidity of her movements that made her feral syndar traits much more acceptable to others around her. Her husband, Korvarric Whisperwind, owned a small tavern that was always filled with the sounds of music from his instruments and laughter from the patrons. They worshipped the Goddess Lunara and it showed by the love and care they showed one another, and even more so to Aramaeyis. As he continued to grow, Aramaeyis developed small fangs and claws, much to the dismay of his mother who worried it would be hard for him to fit in. Even though Syndar always inherit traits from their mothers she had hoped and prayed that Aramaeyis would be different, but the only Serous trait developed from his father was his “normal skin” and one green eye while the other was blue like hers.
When the undead plague started to ravage the Syndar lands, his parents sold and traded what they could to book passage to the new world hoping to keep Aramaeyis safe. As they made their way to their escape point his father was caught by a a pack of undead. He fought and clawed against the creatures begging Miraluya to take Aramaeyis away.
“Save our son, my love”, he screamed, “And, when it is time, may Lunara bring our love into the mana stream once more!”
The image of his father being ravaged by the undead and his blood quenching the earth itself bore itself into Aramaeyis’ mind. It would be something he would never forget, and the sight of blood itself brought up a feeling of disgust in his gut.
Upon arriving to Madrun, they found a small home in the settlement of New Hope. Fearful that he would grow to resent other Syndar for being shunned for his appearance, Miraluya started to teach Aramaeyis about how important the mana stream really was to their people and also started to teach him to dance. Grief was taking her at the loss of her beloved and she had to leave Aramaeyis with some way to deal with the disgust of others and instead turn it into something passionate and raw. She was surprised how easily he was able to take to her teachings, his body moving in ways even she couldn’t.
He had such control , such emotion, and such beauty to his movements that it left her amazed. Aramaeyis was always at home amongst the flowers and the trees. He danced everyday within the forests claiming the mana stream guided his body and filled him with energy and love. As his mother approached one day, Aramaeyis bowed his head, closed his eyes, and greeted her in the way Syndar were normally accustomed to, “Siala Kay Nu, mother.”
It shook her to see her son in the light. His fangs and nails had grown longer, his eyes shined brightly among the sunlight peeking through the trees, and
he was growing into a man. She sat Aramaeyis down and started to tell him stories of what she did before she met his father. Her dances were a way for her to gather money enough to survive. She danced in taverns and even personally for men and women alike, and watched as they looked upon her in awe.
“You must remember my love and my life, our dance is a form of art and will show people who you really are. You can also use it to alter the emotions of others. All Syndar are born with magic and you will learn to harness yours through your movements. Make them feel them music, the emotions, and the passion your dances bring. The only thing I ask of you Aramaeyis, is to promise to never take the life of another. Your heart is large, and grief is a deadly poison to our people. My prayer is that you never have to experience the destruction of taking another’s life.”
Looking upon his mother, Aramaeyis grew worried but he nodded his head softly and said, “I promise mother, I will only bring joy to those I come across.”
A few years later, Miraluya grew sickly. Aramaeyis remembered her stories of dancing for money, and saw it as a way to try and get some medicine for his mother. Even though she pleaded and begged for him not to go along the same path as her, he wouldn’t listen. Losing his mother was something Aramaeyis could not stomach. Knowing no tavern would take him now, he started to perform in the streets drawing small crowds at first that grew larger everyday as people started to be entranced by his movements. He soon started to learn that people sought him out for more than dances. They wanted a companion, which to Aramaeyis who was shunned for always being different, was an appealing thought. He soon learned however, that companionship meant more than he thought it did.
Men and women alike requested him after being entranced by his dances but it brought about the money he needed to care for his mother. Aramaeyis soon learned that those who he shared a bed with, also liked to share the secrets of others while relaxed. He also found out that some people would pay quite well from secrets learned from others. Among those he danced for Aramaeyis met an eccentric man by the name of Thanderion. He aroused the curiosities in Aramaeyis with his stories of dueling and fencing
and boasted that he himself was the most famous and well known fencer among the land. As Aramaeyis spent time with Thanderion and learned more about the world they were in, he learned of a place called the Brown Chicken Brown Cow. An establishment that excelled at the skills his mother used to display and that he started to learn himself. It was run by a woman named Marrah whose beauty was only matched by the sharpness of her tongue. It intrigued him to learn that everyone there was excepted by her as long as you had something to offer her.
Eventually, the grief took Miraluya. The loss of her husband and loss of her sons pure nature became too much for her. Her only wish was that her son would find happiness in everything he did. The loss of his mother however, stung Aramaeyis like a blade to the heart. She was the only person that truly accepted all of him and loved him for it and now she was no more. Even though he knew she would be returned to the mana stream, the thought of never feeling her warmth and her love again became a pit in his stomach. As the years went on he turned to joys of the spirit and his dances became more feral, more raw. Thanderion visited once again, and upon seeing Aramaeyis in this state, offered to travel with him to see Marrah. He hoped that finding a place where he would be included would keep Maey from going down a darker path. As they traveled they grew closer as friends, and the smile that once used to light Maey’s face was brighter than before. As they traveled they came upon the company of an Ulven
camp. Maey had always regarded the ulven with a large amount of respect, knowing that even though the Ulven were large and beast like, honor was the highest priority to them. As they approached he realized they were armed and the symbol of a great wolf was shown among them.
“It’s the Wardens of the Great Wolf,” Thanderion explained. “They are a band of warriors,
healers, and the like who believe in honor and justice among all things. It would seem we are lucky young Maey, Marrah is one of them.” Maey grew excited upon seeing how diverse this group was. They all seemed to enjoy the company of one another, and even upon seeing Maey’s fangs and claws, looked upon him as they would any other. Thanderion led Maey to a beautiful woman who he soon learned was Marrah herself. “He tells me you have a gift of movement as well as the gift of tongue.” Marrah looked upon Maey studying his appearance. “I heard of a certain feral Syndar dancer who had a way with secrets. We were actually hoping to run across you among our travels. You must know that serving me has it’s perks however, you are mine. The wardens are a group who believe in honor and justice, but we realize that passion and pleasure also bring in necessary coin. Be mine and I promise you a life of thrills, secrets, and music to rile your very soul.” Maey couldn’t resist her. The woman was a master of words, and before he knew it he was nodding his head as Marrah placed a collar around his neck, “You’ll come
to love it, trust me.”
As Maey traveled with the Wardens he grew quite fond of those he traveled with. They all came from different lives and had their own tragedies and they understood him. Even though thinking of his parents always drove sadness into his face, he remembered his oath to his mother. To always bring joy to others and never harm. Some of the Wardens were indifferent about the oath, but respected it nonetheless. Marrah wanted to prepare Maey for a grand event they were preparing for. As the group prepared for their journey, he couldn’t be more excited to see what life among the Wardens and his new friends would bring.