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PLAYED BY: Jennifer Schneiderman
CHARACTER NAME: Gwynevive Cotorelle
GENDER: Female
CLASS: Mage
AGE: 24
RACE: Syndar
HAIR: Brown
EYES: Green
OCCUPATION: Student, nomad
KNOWN SKILLS: Arcane magic, Lore, Deciphering Magic, Meditation, archery, blacksmithing, and survival.
BIRTHPLACE: Fire Island
APPEARANCE: Serous Syndar with small pointed ears, living with the humans for several years, she has adopted some of their manner of dress. She prefers to keep some of her hair braided to avoid any interference with shooting.
RELATIONSHIPS: Traveling companions with Cordyn Lockwell (Cody Jackson)

Gwynevive was born on Fire Island during the summer of 242 and had, by all accounts, an undisrupted a childhood possible for her people. From an early age, she enjoyed exploring and learning, pestering the adults to teach her everything they could about flora, fauna, and archery, she particularly enjoyed cataloging and calling after the birds on the island. On her 10th birthday, the Magis found Gwynevive had a knack for arcane magic, and began her formal training. Following her year, Gwynevive continued to take classes in arcane magic, retreating to the forest to practice, and occasionally the forge. She had become fond of the blacksmith, though he was really more of a crude weapon maker with such few resources on the island. In return for some assistance with fashioning broken weapons into arrowheads, he allowed her to practice her magic in the clearing behind his forge (accidentally setting fire to a table on an early attempt of a push spell at school had put her on a kind of blacklist outside of the classroom). He taught her to conserve all available resources, something she took to heart, from saving the metal shavings from the workshop floor to create jewelry, to conserving her mana until it was truly needed. Gwynevive continued to create, and learn, but when first contact was made with the humans in 261, she felt as though the world she had come to know was turned on its head.
Everything she had heard from her parents and the elders had been confirmed, other races, other people were out there. She felt as though the entire world had become so much larger, and she was so much smaller in comparison. When the first traders announced they would come to the island, she rushed to the scene in as dignified a manner as possible. The humans seemed gruff and loud to her, but she didn’t care. She had brought with her some of her arrow heads and jewelry that the blacksmith had deemed appropriate enough quality. Of course, her being so young, it was far from the most elegant work there. The humans seemed more interested in the cloth, bows, and arrows of some of the older, more experienced Syndar than her. Not to be discouraged, she set her wares on a woven mat and began to absentmindedly whittle before being interrupted by one of the humans.
“What have you got there?” Gwynevive looked up at the salty and leathery-skinned human above her, completely unable to speak. How dare he address her in such a direct and rude manner!
He smiled down at her, “you make that yourself?” Why was he smiling at her like that?! It was such a big smile, she could see all his teeth, he looked ridiculous.
Unable to tell if he was making fun of her or not, Gwynevive’s eyes widened, whether out of anger or astonishment she couldn’t rightfully say. She tried to speak but something inside her vocal cords wasn’t working, all she could muster was a nod. She turned back to the piece of wood in her hands while the human furrowed his brow and shifted from foot to foot. He knelt down to get a better look, Gwynevive noticed that he had already purchased a few bows and mats from the other Syndar, and pushed down the indignation she felt. He was humoring her.
“My wife might like this, is it for sale?” The man asked, picking up a small ring with a branch etched around the outside. Gwynevive looked at the man and nodded a second time. The man rifled through a bag on his hip, and pulled out a small bar of iron. Gwynevive tried her best to contain her excitement, though clearly she had let something show. The man showed her his toothy smile again and extended the iron to her.
“Why don’t you make me some more, and I’ll come back for them?” Gwynevive looked back and forth from the man’s face to the iron, trying to gauge him. Her mind was racing; she held her hand aloft and slowly nodded a third time.
The man’s name, Gwynevive later learned, was Jermaine Cotorelle, and he lived at Crows’ Landing. Over the next two years, he would come on nearly every other trade shipment to Fire Island, always making sure to stop by Gwynevive’s mat before the end of his stay. Initially, he had taken some getting used to, but over time, she had learned to accept his rough and tumble mannerisms. He liked touching the other humans, she noticed, often slapping them and guffawing loudly. When he came to see her, he would do most of the talking, telling her about Crows’ Landing, and his new exploits on the mainland. She learned about Ulven and Mordoc, and heard tales of a multitude of races living together. Jermaine always brought small payments for her work, a “maker’s fee” as it were. But more importantly, the new iron that came with him was far superior to what she had to work with on the island. All in all, she grew to look forward to his visits, and began sharing her stories with him of her childhood, even showing him some simple magic, when he asked. As her work got better, he started bringing more payments and larger bars of iron, she asked if it was a hassle to travel with such heavy cargo, to which he shrugged and told her not to worry. After two years of trade, Gwynevive struck a second bargain with Jermaine. In exchange for her work and protection; room and board, and safe passage to the mainland.
Something weighed heavy on Gwynevive’s mind, though she couldn’t place it. It was the fall of 265, and she felt…itchy. It was nearing on winter, and though she had been in Crows’ Landing for two years, the winters still seemed harsher here than Fire Island. She paced the town trying to find words to explain how she felt, but not getting anywhere. Hunting didn’t help, neither did practicing her magic, or making jewelry, everything only served to frustrate her more. By the time she caught up with Jermaine and his wife Freya, it was so obvious something was bothering her; she was worried he might notice.
“Something on your mind, Vive?” She wrinkled her nose at the nickname he had given her, by now she had hoped that he would call her by her real name. Either that or she thought she would have grown used to it
“The Syndar usually prefer to be called by their full names, Jermaine.” She tried her best to contain her irritations.
“Humans prefer to shake hands, but I never bothered you about that did I?”
“You tried to reach for my hand this morning…” Jermaine gave her a smirk as Freya brought dinner out to the table. Gwynevive had been living and working with them since she left Fire Island. She had grown fond of them both; they made her feel more at home on the mainland, despite not fully understanding her culture. The first time they startled her during a full moon sacrifice of incense she was so angry with Freya she nearly brought her to tears. Overall she had a good life here; Jermaine brought her on his routes for company and protection. At home, she would make more metal goods to sell, and she had recently adopted their last name to be more recognizable outside of Crows’ Landing. Truth be told, that was only half the reason, she was very fond of her adopted family.
But something was different now; she had been all over the southern routes and back to the island time and time again. She wanted a change of pace. She eyed the warm meal in front of her.
“Jermaine, I’ve wanted to ask you how you felt about the idea of leaving.”
“We’re off north next week, just waiting on supplies.”
“Alone.”
Freya stopped eating and looked to her husband. Jermaine was silent. Gwynevive kept staring at her food.
“Hah! About time, I was wondering when this life would be too small for you…I’d just…feel better if you didn’t go alone…” Gwynevive couldn’t help but crack a smile.
Before long, Gwynevive met Cordyn Lockwell, a human with a sword, and an interest in arcane magic. She wasn’t sure of his abilities with mana, but after a few months, she was even more dubious of his abilities with his sword.

Played By: Kelly Peterson
Character Name: Rindis zawjah Nasir, al Sydly, al Phoenix waw Kae’Rim
Character Name Translation: Rindis, Wife of Nasir, the Apothecary, of the Fire Isle and the Kae’Rim
Gender: Female
Class: Rogue
Age: 103
Birth: High Summer, The Year 162
Race: Syndar (Phoenix )
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Hazel
Occupation: Alchemist, Herbalist, Trader
Known Skills: Alchemy, Herbalism
Birthplace: Faedrun, On the Phoenix Trade routes of the May’kar Desert prior to Mara Yargis’ enlightenment
Appearance: Brown hair, hazel eyes, moderately tall. Dresses in mostly wraps and tunics as a compromise between Phoenix dress and the more modest and higher coverage expectations of the Kae’rim.
Notable Traits: Wear’s a hijab. Rather consistently carries items to sell.

Backstory:

Rindis was born on the Phoenix territory of the May’kar desert in the year 162. She was born to the caravan lifestyle and traveled as a child with her parents and her tribe, learning desert survival and the ways of trading alongside practical skills like alchemy and herbalism, which always served a Syndar in good stead (be she in the desert or the plains).The phoenix lifestyle in the desert suited her well, but as a young adult she began to undertake special trading trips to locations off the typical routes as an excuse to wander.

One of these trips took her to a section of road that she shared with a young Naran mage. He was on the cusp of taking up travel as a way to better himself. She found him both interesting and entertaining. The two took to traveling together, exploring bits of Faedrun. In the outskirts of Naran territory they bordered on scandal, the young native mage traveling alongside the bold and blunt Phoenix Apothecary. A combination of the young Naran’s curiosity and Rindis’ own wanderlust led them beyond the borders of Nara Pentare, permitting the two to make enemies and friends abroad from both of their homelands.

It was a sad day when the message arrived for Rindis’ Naran friend. Though in the same heartbeat it was a message that gave him the path to making his own way as a true adult and not just a mage traveling to learn more about himself. Thus, Rindis returned to the May’kar desert and her tribe, while the young Naran reported to Vandregon’s 5th for his final proving. Rindis’ help would only have brought doubt to his honor, and that was unacceptable.

It was two years later that she regretted not continuing to travel alongside him. The 5th were routed at their keep in a failed attempt to use a ritual to destroy the undead foes. The garrison keep was lost. Her friend is a celebrated hero who stood in the face of the enemy with courage. One of the many whose mortal remains were never recovered to be mourned and seen into the next life.

Rindis tried to live quietly and on her own after that, having discovered exactly how painful having friends can really be in such a world. The malaise didn’t survive long, however, in the naturally enthusiastic and chipper faces of the nature of the Phoenix. She grew in knowledge, mastering herb after herb, and alchemical mixture after alchemical mixture.

She followed Magis Yara on the quest for a place where one doesn’t have to worry about how quickly your friends might die. She sailed on Solara’s will, facing the hardships of the ocean. She watched more who were dear to her suffer and die despite her best efforts. But in total, Solara’s promise is fulfilled, and the Fire Isle rises in glory from ashes like the namesake of her people.

It was many years later she was amongst those who made the effort to make contact with the Ulven. And from there she, and her long-held wanderlust, was amongst those who resumed the running of trade routes and began to travel the length and breath of Mardrun. In many ways it was much like traveling Faedrun, and in others it was profoundly unlike anywhere she had ever been before.

It was the lands around Serai that her heart belonged to, following the May’kar settlement being built. It reminded her of the desert she had been born to, and the past she would never be able to forget. She made friends amongst both the May’kar and the Kae’rim who traveled in the desert and built no settlements. Eventually, one asked her to come with him, to marry him.

Contrary to the typical Phoenix approach to this, she said yes. Al Mo’alej, her healer, was someone she cared deeply for, and wanted no technicality to ever separate her from him. The last dear friend she’d left alone had been struck down without her, and her Nasir was even more dear to her than anyone she’d ever met. Even her family. So they were married, and she became Rindis zawjah Nasir, al Sydly, al Phoenix waw Kae’rim. The name people shouted when they needed her attention was no longer “Rindis”; Now she was “Al Sydly”, the Apothecary who worked beside the healer Al Mo’alej.

And so now she once again travels in May’kar territory, her life having come full circle.

Timeline of Major Life Events:

• Year 162: Rindis was born.
• Year 173: [REDACTED] was born in Nara Pentare.
• Year 199: Rindis (age 37) & [REDACTED] (age 26) raise hell as traveling companions.
• Year 201: Rindis & [REDACTED] part ways, him to go work with the 5th, her to return to her people.
• Year 203: [REDACTED] meets his end to the Undead Hordes. Rindis believes the reports.
• Year 232: Enlightenment of Magis Yara. Phoenix exodus begins.
• Year 261: Phoenix make contact with the Ulven.
• Year 263: Serai Founded. Rindis Marries Al Mo’alej, becomes Al Sydly.

Name: Shar’leth
Race: Syndar

Shar’leth was 14 when her family announced they were planning to join their people and cross the sea. Feisty and strong-willed, she had a habit of courting controversy and defying anyone who told her she couldn’t do something. She was a flirtatious girl, reveling in the attention and devotion she drew out of the boys she set her sights on. It was clear to anyone who knew her that she was going to be more and more trouble once she reached an age where her wiles would sway more than just boys.

A year before the announcement to set out was made, Shar’leth had a chance meeting with a human boy of her own age while out hunting for something to do. They were instantly fascinated with one another, and their initial flirtations had become something much more serious in their young eyes. Their rendezvous were eventually ended when a hunting party from her village found the pair. Shar’leth was forcibly dragged back to the village and she quickly became the centre of public scrutiny and gossip as the new spread like wildfire. Of course her parents, humiliated by the news of their daughter’s dalliance with a human told Shar’leth, in no uncertain terms, that she was to cut off any and all contact with the boy. Though she screamed and protested, insisting they were in love and going to be married once they were of age to do so, her parents refused to relent.

It was a month since she has seen her human love, when the decision to cross the sea was finalized. When her parents told her of their plans to make the journey Shar’leth was beside herself with grief believing she was abandoning the boy she was meant to spend her days with. So, the morning of departure, she hid in a hollowed out log and listened as her frantic parents called out and searched for her. Their search lasted hours but, unable to find her, they were forced to leave their only child behind.

When she was sure they were gone, Shar’leth emerged and immediately sought out her sweetheart. Her explanation of what she had done and her joy at their reunion was cut short however; in the month since they had last seen each-other the boy had found another girl and wished nothing to do with Shar’leth.

Alone and terrified, she wandered, weeping for her losses as she realized what she had so selfishly done. For months she shunned other people, skirting settlements and travelers. She was unwilling to go back to her remaining people whom stayed behind for fear of more anger and possible exile. Her only interaction with civilization was the occasional ransacking of a pantry while the owners of the homes were away. Eventually though, she ran out of food and was unable to find any homes or camps from which to pilfer a meal. Time passed and as the winter set in; she fell ill with a fever. Starved, weak and ready to give up, she at last stumbled across a remote cabin. Shivering and in tears, Shar’leth approached the door and knocked as she silently prayed for deliverance.

It turned out a Syndar hunter who was twice her age, lived alone in the cabin. Shar’leth swayed as the light and heat of the fire hit her face. She managed to croak out a whispered “help” before she collapsed. He scooped her up, wrapped her in furs and over the next week he nursed her back to health. His name, she learned, was Illsen. He was kind and doting, soothing her aches and feeding her broths laced with herbs aimed to aid her recovery. After several weeks together, despite her obvious youth, he asked her to stay with him and become his wife. Thinking she had at last found the love she had longed and sacrificed so much for, she gleefully accepted his offer and they married soon after.

Once married though, Illsen’s treatment of her drastically altered. He began to berate and beat her for the most insignificant of infractions. His near constant abuses eventually reduced the once fiery and lively girl to a weak and completely subservient bride.
She tried to flee several times, but he always tracked her and brought her back home before she could find anyone who was willing to give her aid. Those living in the nearest Syndar village closed their doors to her, both out of fear of Illsen and the belief that the problems between a husband and wife were none of their affairs.

Shar’leth finally gave up on her hope of escape and accepted her fate with Illsen, she had come to believe that she brought this misery on herself by choosing a man over her family in the first place. She learned to tend her wounds, eventually discovering that she possessed magical abilities which allowed her to hasten her healing. She endured and dedicated her days to making sure her husband’s every desire was met, in the vain hope that she would avoid another beating. He always found a reason however, even claiming on some occasions that his treatment of her was a result of a doe escaping his bow and as a woman she should bear the punishment for the creature’s defiance.

It wasn’t until she had been married for 27 years that she became pregnant. Shar’leth was terrified of telling her husband, convinced he would be furious with her. She didn’t know how she would hide the pregnancy from him when she began to show, nor could she bear the thought of drinking a tea to rid her belly of it.

One night, as she cleaned the dinner from the table and her husband loomed into the room, her hand trembled and she dropped their plates, watching in horror as they shattered on the floor. Illsen’s rage exploded and he beat her severely about her face and stomach, resulting in the loss of the child he didn’t know she carried. When her bleeding began and she realized what he had done, Shar’leth finally found the strength to do what she knew she must if she would ever escape Illsen.

When she had healed enough to walk, she set her plans into motion. At dinner, she served her husband a strong ale laced with Valerian root, intending to put him into a deep slumber. Once he had stumbled to their bed and passed out, she began to gather her clothing and some rations she had hidden away under a floorboard. She searched his pouches, taking the few coins she found there and placed them in her own pouch. Finally, she returned to the kitchen, so long her prison, and picked up a knife.

Shar’leth crept into the bedroom and stood over her husband. She remembered all the pain and suffering she had endured at his hands and the child she had lost. Taking a steadying breath, she raised the knife high over her head and exhaled.

She wasn’t sure what she had expected the sound of a knife driven into a living man to sound like, but she certainly hadn’t prepared herself for it. Illsen’s eyes sprang open as he screamed; she wrenched the knife from his flesh and again brought it down with brutal force. His screams began to take on a gurgling quality and she backed away from him, transfixed at the blade’s handle protruding from his torso and the trail of blood pouring from his mouth and wounds. Without a word she turned and fled certain that she had finally ended her captivity and would be able to escape her tormentor.

Shar’leth headed straight for the coast, intent on booking passage to find her family and beg their forgiveness for her impulsive abandonment. Her entire purse was emptied to secure a place aboard a vessel, but she managed to find a ship which was bound for a port in the city of New Hope.

Upon her arrival, no one had even heard of the Syndar who called themselves Phoenix. It would be another couple of years until Shar’leth would learn that there was a small group of the Phoenix who were travelling on Mardrun. Deciding it would be far more prudent to approach a smaller gathering of her people and see how she was received she set out to find them, again, silently praying for deliverance.

Played by: Brandon Potter
Name: Edrahil
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Race: Serous Syndar
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Blue
Character Website: None
Occupation: Phoenix archer/mage
Class:Mage
Known Skills: Arcane magic,Archery
Birthplace: His home on the Fire Isle
Appearance: Brown hair, blue eyes stocky build
Notable Traits:Easily distracted
Relationships: none
Rumors: None

Bio:
Born into the Phoenix in the year 235. Edrahils home has always been on Fire Isle. The other Phoenix loved to lend a hand to raising Edrahil as he was always cheerful and quite curious. But he still made it a point to spend as much time with his Mother and Father as he could. When he was ten, he was tested in his magical abilities and found that Solara had gifted him with the gifts of arcane.
He studied the mandatory year of arcane, but found his attention to it wane as he found the joys of archery. Edrahil felt that shooting a bow was more intriguing and enjoyable than casting spells; much to his father’s dismay as he pushed for him to advance his arcane skills.
In the year 261, once the other land was discovered Edrahil knew he wanted to travel this new land, but feared he would not survive based on the fact the he knew nothing but the Island his entire life. He knew he was proficient at gathering, hunting and basic magic, but did not want to take the first step alone.
Unable to make the ventures over to these lands he became sad and found other things to keep him distracted as he usually would. He went about his days practicing archery and little arcane also hunting and gathering for the rest of the tribe.
In the fall of the year 262 he had finally made the decision to leave the island. One of the other Phoenix, Aislinn and Aiden were to be Joined in Mardrun, the new land. He set out on the boat with Zingara and Zeva and the rest of the group of Aislinn and Aidens family who were going to celebrate the Joining. They were just visiting and were coming back to the Island, but Edrahil knew he wasn’t coming back right away. He made his good-byes with his family and the other members of the Phoenix who helped raise him. They were sad at him leaving, but knew he was a good hunter and would be just fine on his own. They gave him well wishes and hugs and waved good-bye to him as he left on the boat.
He knew was leaving the Island and everything he knew to start his new journey he wasn’t afraid because he knew he’d return to his beautiful homelands once again.

Played by: Dustin Endres
Name: Santiago Ruiz
Gender: Male
Age: mid-twenties
Race: Syndar/Human
Hair: Dark brown
Eyes: brown
Character Website:
Occupation:
Known Skills:
Birthplace: Aldoria
Appearance: long hair, usually with a beard, and is quite dirty
Notable Traits:
Bio:

I don’t rightly know where or when I was born, but I spent my childhood with my mother, Rahlyn, in Aldoria. She never really seemed all to happy bout much especially when I asked her about why we didn’t live with all the other Syndar, nearest I could figure her and them just didn’t get along, she did give me a human name after all. Momma always seemed quite distant and I would often see her circling her hands around each other in a very peculiar manner then seeming awful down when nothing happened. Now none of this is to say that she didn’t love me, I don’t really know how but she always provided for me and made sure I never went wanting.
When I was still real little momma told about my father. He is Mordecai Francis Konrad Ferdinand Blackwaters, captain of the Blue Ruby. She told me that should we ever find each other we would be able tell by a birthmark we share on our backsides.
Momma had lots of friends around town, mostly men who would come by and stay a little while then leave again. One day momma had a fight with one her friends, a man dressed real fancy. I don’t know what they arguing over but when they finished the man came up to me still looking angry and told me that, even though i was still young, he was gunna to take me to help build some ships.
So I helped with these ships for quite some time until the day Aldoria fell. I remember seeing the streets in chaos as I tried to from rush from the docks back to momma. A hit to the back of my head ended my run real quick, and by the time I woke up we were already out to sea on our way to Mardrun.
When we made land, we were at the settlement of New Hope. I made a small shack at the edge of town, it ain’t so hard compared to making ships, and kept to myself for a small while. After a while supplies became more spread out, so began to do whatever I could to keep alive, which often meant stealing or even taking less than reputable odd jobs. There were plenty of other Syndar there in New Hope but I figured Momma didn’t like them much so best to just steer clear of them too. After what must have been a few years of just scrapping by, I got caught trying to steal from the home of someone who frankly had more than enough to spare. I managed to not get captured, but I figured my face got seen and it would be best if left New Hope and I had heard that Aldoria had set up shop in a new town so I headed there.
My arrival in New Aldoria seemed like as good a thing as any to celebrate so I hit the closest tavern and spent what money I had left. This New Aldoria was a fine town, lots of people to cheat money off of, I barely even had to steal to get by. When I could, I paid to stay at an inn or tavern, but more often than not I had to sleep on the streets. Before too long I heard tell that the Blue Ruby had made it to Mardrun. I spent the next few months spreading whatever coin and drink I could manage trying to get leads on the Ruby, I did eventually hear tell that daddy was alive. It felt like a was never gunna get ahead of the ship to able to track it down until finally I heard that I had just missed him in town and that he made mention of heading to some place called Onsallas. It was real easy to figure out what that place was but its gunna take some work to get there, best get on it.
Relationships: son of Mordecai Blackwaters
Rumors: “I hear that both of that street-rat’s parents are criminals”

Name: Lineth
Race: Syndar

“Slaves don’t have a story, forget yours,” was a common phrase I heard, be it from a master or a fellow slave.
But I can’t forget my story. No matter how hard I may try, I can’t. I refuse to.
“No one cares to hear a slave’s story. They’re nothing to their masters, no better than the scum on the bottom of a boot. That’s why slaves don’t have a story.”

If you’ve actually taken the time to listen to my story, may the gods watch over you. No one cares to hear a slave’s story. But perhaps you’re different. I believe somewhere there’s someone who cares. I have to believe, otherwise I have nothing.
My father was my first master. He never called me a slave, but he hated me. My mother died a few days after I was born, complications with the labor, I’ve been told. Father never forgave me for it. From that day until the day he sold me, he blamed me for my mother’s death. And he never let me forget it. Since I was old enough to walk, he had me doing everything I could. If I didn’t do it right, or if I didn’t accomplish whatever the task was in a timely manner, he would lash out at me. Sometimes he beat me just because he could.
Kirrian, my brother, was the favorite child. He could never do anything wrong. He excelled in everything and anything Father taught him, be it leatherwork, hunting, fighting, or minor spells. I was never allowed to learn anything. I was too busy cleaning the cottage, running errands, or doing whatever minor task father could think of. Kirrian eventually began to pick up father’s habits as well. If he deemed I hadn’t done the task right, he would beat Father to my beating, and even then Father would finish the job.
One day, when I was ten years old, Father sent me out to the market to find my brother. I found him leaning against a tavern wall flirting with one of the tavern maids.
“Father sent me to find you. He wants to go check the traps,” I said meekly.
“I’ll be back when I’m back,” my brother snapped.
“Of course, I’m sorry to have bothered you.” I bowed my head and turned to leave.
“I didn’t say you could leave yet!” He turned to the maid, “Watch this,” he said with a smirk. “See that man over there?” he asked me, pointing out a man by the fruit stand, “He has a full coin purse. You’re small and semi-smart, I’m sure even you could handle pick-pocketing him.”
“Of course,” I replied.
I snuck over and scoped out the situation. When I believed I had found the opportune moment, I made to take it. Sneaking closer, I slipped my hand in this pocket, but just as I was turning to leave, he caught me. I took off running, clutching the purse to my chest. My brother watched as I ran toward him, laughing all the while. This was his fault, I knew it, so when I reached him, I took advantage of another opportunity. I threw the purse at my brother and darted down an alley next to the tavern. I paused halfway down to catch my breath when I realized that my pursuer had become preoccupied with my brother. A shouting match ensued and a crowd gathered around. But when I heard the sound of steel being pulled, I took off again.
Father then had another death he believed he could blame on me. Repeatedly he told me that I should’ve been the one to die that day. They were after me, not him. There was absolutely no reason he should’ve died. Frankly, I would rather it had been me who died that day. It would have spared me the coming events.
For about six months after my brother’s death, the beatings increased, that’s how my father dealt with the loss. Come the six months, he discovered drinking drowns his sorrows, but it also fueled his rage. Every night he would disappear to some tavern in town and stumble his way back before dawn. Until the drinking became worse and he just wouldn’t make his way back. Those nights I’d have to go find him. Typically, he was found in a corner gambling his possessions away.
That night though, he was in his typical corner playing liar’s dice with a merchant. His money was completely gone and he was deep in his cups. The merchant had a bemused smile on his face, as he knew he was ruining Father. I snuck up behind him, and put my hand on his shoulder.
“Father, it’s time to go,” I whispered in his ear.
“STAY OUT OF THIS YOU LITTLE WHORE!” he shouted back and slapped me across the face.
“Now, now, now, no need for that,” the merchant said calmly and gestured for me to sit.
I stood, shocked, as he signaled for a tavern maid to bring another round, plus one, over.
“Sit down, little one,” he said with a friendly smile on his face.
I looked to him and to Father, confused.
“Listen to him, wench,” he grumbled at me.
I sat on the bench next to Father as the tavern maid laid three tankards on the table.
“Now, we have matters of this debt to discuss,” the merchant said, “I’m an impatient man and will be leaving town in two days. I require my payment before then.”
“You’ll get your damn money,” Father grumbled into his cup.
“You have no money left. How do you expect to pay it back?”
“That’s not for you to worry about,” Father snapped.
“Ah, but it is, for it’s my money now,” the merchant said. His eyes twinkled as a smile crept across his face and he watched me timidly lift the tankard to my lips, “Or, I’ll consider your debt forgiven, if….”
“….if?” Father said, suddenly intrigued.
“If you give me her.”
I gasped and dropped the tankard on the table, spilling its contents. Father slapped me across the face again.
“Take her, she’s yours,” he snapped at the merchant, “I never loved her.”
“A pity, such a pretty little thing like her,” whispered the merchant, “I’ll take her and forget your debt.”
“Fair enough! She’s yours.”
The merchant stood with a smile on his face and offered me his hand, “Come along sweet one.”
I looked to Father, to the merchant, and back to Father.
“You heard the man, get along. I’m done with you,” Father snapped.
I hesitantly took the merchant’s hand and he led me from the tavern. I never looked back, and regretted it ever since.
He led me outside of town where an elaborate camp was set up. Immediately upon walking in, men gathered around to see what he had brought back. They started laughing and jeering, and my supposed savior gave a small nod of his head. Two of the men ran off, laughing, in the direction of what seemed to be a mediocre blacksmithing station.
“This way, my dear,” the merchant said, leading me towards the largest tent in the middle of the camp.
“GATHER ROUND GENTS AND COMEE MEET THE NEWEST MEMBER OF OUR CREW!” he called out to the camp.
Men came out of tents, pulling on shirts or pants, or stumbled out of the small feasting tent and gathered in front of the large tent.
“Gentleman, I am pleased to announce we have a new member joining us,” he paused and leaned down to whisper, “Uhh, what is your name, my dear?”
“Lineth,” I replied quietly.
“LINETH!” he announced.
The men cheered and jeered, clapping and whooping.
“MAKE WAY, MAKE WAY!” called the two men who had run off earlier at the top of their lungs.
A path cleared as the group parted for the two to approach. They stopped in front of the merchant and held something out as they knelt. The merchant smiled and grabbed the irons from the men.
“Are you afraid?” he asked me and clapped the irons on my wrist.
Panic rose in me, as the cheering grew louder. The merchant then grabbed my wrists and dragged me to the side of his tent. A large tarp covered what looked like a giant chest. Two other men pulled it aside to reveal a small cage underneath. The gaoler unlocked the cage and I was forced in. I rushed back toward the opening just as the door slammed in my face.
The merchant held the tarp then, and said with a smile, “And you thought life with your father was terrible,” and my world turned to night.

Name: Elensul Amenti
Race: Half-Syndar
Class: Mage

Bio:
Everything changed for her when her father died on Faedrun. She had been alive for 100 years and traveled with her father everywhere. One might think it odd to be with your father for that long – doubly-so when one considered his human nature – but it only seemed natural when you were a 12 year old girl for those 100 years. Elensul thought herself immortal, giving herself a unique perspective about the world. She has lived so long that things that would bother most people do not seem to faze her. The years had left her with a very open personality, trusting and willing to hold judgment for a time that seemed oddly inappropriate for one of her apparent age.

Elensul is a daughter split between two worlds – her father human, her mother Syndar, and her feet remained planted between these worlds. Her father is a Human named Rovenon Amenti. She never knew her mother, having been told that she died during childbirth. What her father never told her was that her mother, the Syndar mage Nenvira Trisfal was still alive, and the reason for her – and her father’s – somewhat unique curse

She was cursed with what she saw as immortality, for her father had never clearly explained beyond, “So long as I remain alive, so shall you”. Her aging was slowed to the point it seemed to defy nature – her mind and attitudes felt the greatest of this curse, keeping her attitudes naive and child-like despite her years. It does not seem like such a bad curse, but when one been 12 years old for 100 some years, it starts to make a difference. One consequence of this curse was her father’s slowed aging mirrored her own – but seeing as the life of a human is a wilting leaf in contrast to the evergreen span of a Syndar, they both knew it would end. They spent their time traveling through Faedrun looking for a way to break the curse, but they could not find a way to do so without him dying. In the end, they finally accomplished their goal in the worst way. Elensul was returned to the main currents in the rivers of time, but was alone in the world for the first time in her life.

The next 10 years were rough for her; as a child she had always had an innate ability for magic, but as a child’s hands have difficulty lifting a blade, so too can they never channel the forces of magic with the skill of a older, wiser mage. As she grew older, her spells began to grow more potent and dangerous. Sometimes, she would lose control over her powers and harm those around her; with her odd appearance and speech, she was often branded a danger to towns and villages, forced to travel to avoid persecution. Eventually, she grew into a woman who could travel around without being treated like a little girl. This is when she decided she wanted to get away from a place where she was reminded constantly of her father – her travels had led them everywhere in search of answers, and with the growing threat of the undead, she sought an escape from a dangerous land. The refugees spoke of a land that none had explored – free from the memories she had formed over the hills and trees and Faedrun. Her mind made up, she got on a ship to travel to Mardrun and never looked back.

She still remains a bit childish today, even though she is a grown woman – years of habit and the lingering effects of the magic on her mind make retreat to childish emotions easier. She is playful and excited about the world, but maintains a sense of wisdom and detachment when not eagerly exploring the new sensations surronding her. People who meet her see that she has an innocence about her that makes her seem less threatening. She may be a bit naïve when it comes to meeting new people, but like a child she can tell if someone seems off. Sometimes she forgets that she is mortal and may do some reckless things which may endanger those around her. She is very curious about the world, learning new things about people and the world have always fascinated her. She finds Mardrun an intriguing place, and the people in it even more so. The intricate culture of the Ulven puzzles her but she is more curious about their customer than appalled.

One thing that she would hope to find out in the future is who put the curse on her in the first place. She has traveled most of Faedrun and has not figured it out. She doubts that there will be answers on Mardrun, but one never know where the answers may be hidden.

Played by: Anna Szwab
Name: Shashikala
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Race: Syndar
Hair: Brown (naturally)
Eyes: Hazel
Occupation: Alchemist/Ranger
Known Skills: Duel- wielding/ Alchemy
Birthplace: Syndar Village in Faedrun
Notable Traits: Multiple facial piercings, quite anxious

Shashi is a Syndar from modest origins from the Kingdom of Tielorrien . On the journey to the new continent called Mardrun, unbeknownst to the passengers one of them had been bitten by an Undead. It took for several of the passengers on the boat became infected before it became known. All hell broke loose as panicked passengers tried to fight or flee. A lamp was knocked over and the ship lit on fire and she was forced to jump ship, leaving her family and her past behind. She found refuge on the back of the first fellow floater she found.
2 days after jumping the burning ship Shashi was worn, tired and suffering extreme dehydration. A fellow merchant ship found her and brought her on board. They saw the fire and came to look for survivors and extra cargo. One of the merchants took pity on her and once they made it to Mardrun he agreed to help her out.
She lived with the merchant for and time in New Hope and he was also kind enough to teach her basic alchemy. He had helped her learn her alchemy in order for Shashi to have a means of paying for her own necessities. She is also an aspiring dual wielder, although still quite clumsy with weapons. She took her leave from the merchant and is at the moment, currently in transit to the nearest Ranger outpost. Hoping for acceptance she had heard they were looking for recruits.

Real name: [Redacted]

Know aliases: Hollow, Oberon

Age: unknown, record suggest he is well over 100 years old

Race: syndar

Gender: male

Our earliest records of Oberon place him in Tielorrien around year 185 studying the divine arts. There is very little to note in these years except that it seems he learned high sydarin to study old texts. With the onset of the undead plague, he immediately began researching the undead with intent on finding a way to destroy them en masse. At some point in his research he began to believe that to stop the undead we must first find the way in which they are created and to reverse that process, and to that end he tried to find a way to reanimate the dead. Eventually he began to work with another undead researcher by the name of Aeshura. Records from his trial state that Oberon hid the exact nature of his research from Aeshura at first and when when the truth came out Aeshura objected and threatened to jeopardize all that
Oberon had work toward, so Oberon murdered Aeshura. Oberon was caught trying to dispose of the body of his former research partner, which had clearly been thoroughly studied. Through the duration of his trial, he never admitted that he was in the wrong and was eventually sentenced to reclamation, a sentence which was carried out in 208.

After the conclusion of his trial, he becomes very hard to track, but by his own admission he traveled to the May’kar Dominion and then to Vandragon and eventually he traveled to Aldoria. Some of the citizens of New Oarsmeet said they remember seeing a strange syndar appearing around Oarsmeet in year 237. Oberon, having adopted the moniker “Hollow”, began to shed much of the bright colors and opulence that mark most syndar and instead adopted the fashions of his new home to blend in with the populus. When Oarsmeet came under siege by the undead Oberon was evacuated onto the Blue Ruby with the rest of the civilians that made it off of Faedrun from the port town. Upon reaching Mardrun, he helped to build the town that would become his home, New Oarsmeet, where he would live in relative obscurity for several years.

The rise and fall of the Lich on Mardrun piqued Oberon’s interest and brought him away from New Oarsmeet and into our sights. Word reached our ears in New Hope of a hollowed syndar asking for any information about the lich, we used the information we had on the lich as a bargaining chip in an attempt to figured out his true identity. After a a few weeks of contact, and our own research into Celestial Arragones’ records, we were able draw the conclusion that this was Oberon that we were speaking to. Alestear believed that Oberon could be useful to the Ravens so he had us send him our standard offer to join us along with the additional words, in high sydarin, “We know who you are, Oberon,” as well as had a letter signed with the name Alestear. Predictably, Oberon began to inquire around as to who Alestear is, we used our agents to feed him enough information to make his choice.

Current status: working as an agent of the Ravens under the alias “Oberon”