Characters – Last Hope Larp

Sigrun Stoneheart

PLAYER NAME: Cerise Pipson

CHARACTER NAME: Sigrun Stoneheart

RACE: Ulven

CLASS: Warrior

BIO:
Born into a family of middling standing within the caste system of Clan Whiteoak, Sigrun Stoneheart was your typical Whiteoak youth. Her people were a martial breed. The clans of the north had to be of stern stuff to survive the constant threat of the Mordok. That, and the until recently, endless feud with their neighbor Axehound, forged a young woman familiar with the hardships of life on Mardrun. As this new war rages to the west, Whiteoak struggles against the most ancient of foes. The Mordok, a ceaseless threat, and the outposts on The Shield in need of constant manpower and logistical support, her family have lived a quiet life doing their part. By farming and hunting for needed food supplies and acting as support for their chieftains warpack, they kept themselves busy and useful. But now sickness strikes their people and times grow hard.

With her clan’s usual methods to earn a living, Sigrun sought another way to support herself and her family. She found it in the form of a solitary traveler, an Ulven skjald, travelling packless and alone across Mardrun. Seeking glory or adventure, or some strange ambition, he was in need of a guard. In these times safety is in short supply and an extra set of eyes and a sharp blade are always helpful. Setting aside her comfortable routines and the only home she has ever known, Sigrun joined with this man, Einar. With the promise of payment for her service of protection, and a no nonsense attitude, she hopes to do what she can. Her goal is to keep them both safe from whatever the world throws their way. All so she can keep her family secure until these dark days pass and peace comes again.

Amrod

PLAYED BY: Tyler Dubey

CHARACTER NAME: Amrod

GENDER: Male

PREFFERED PRONOUN(S): He/Him

CLASS: Mage

AGE: 97

RACE: Syndar (Io’Larian, Shattered Tribes)

HAIR: Brown or none

EYES: Hazel

OCCUPATION: Retired Soldier of Lairthuduil, Now Farmer

BIRTHPLACE: Southern Border of Lairthuduil

APPEARANCE: Wears simple clothes, has a pack and a large wrapped bundle on his back if traveling.

NOTABLE TRAITS: Beard, tired eyes, Scars across face, , gold and black lines

RUMORS: Served many years in the Grand Alliance, was on one of the few ships from Tielorrien. Prefers to be alone, does NOT like fighting if it can be avoided. Seems to be trying to atone for the sins of the past or move past the horrors of war.

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY: Amrod’s first memories are that of the peaceful lands of Lairthuduil, learning to farm from his parents in the small remote commune of the Goldenshade Tribe of Io’Larian’s. While the lowest in the caste at the time, their commune was known for their herbs and spices that they grew along the forest and mountain edges.
However, that life came to an end once the undead that invaded Richtcrag began to travel north through the pass. The Penitent began to push into the Kingdom of Lairthuduil with the undead by the time Amrod was just a young man, and decimated his tribe. Fleeing with the few members of his commune to Tielorrien, Amrod made a choice to be a foot soldier for what would eventually become the Grand Alliance.

The memories blur or become repressed. Bloody shield lines filled with the screams of the dying as friends and allies are torn apart by undead. The smell of decay and sick back at the camp as wounds infected with magical disease flood the air. Food with very little flavor, or just broth to keep them alive. This portion of Amrod’s life was an utter nightmare, much of which he wishes he could forget.

When news of a ship was sailing towards a new land and some rumored colonies that were set up by New Aldoria, Amrod has survived countless battles by luck, skill, and endurance. The small fleeting glimmer of hope in his almost emotionless soul sparked, and requested to be assigned to protect the Syndar that were to set sail. It took a few months of deliberation, however, they agreed that Amrod had served his fair share for the Grand Alliance, and allowed him to be discharged and go to Mardrun.

Once on the soil of Mardrun, Amrod was faced with another war. Taking up his glaive and armor, he went to battle against the Ulven. Thankfully the war ended quickly, but only for a brief moment till the Ulven Civil War came into action. Those that knew him back while he served the Grand Alliance, asked him to serve one last time. He said he would, however, require from them a small farm of his own, away from the rest of the people, and to never be asked to serve again once the war was done. The small group of Syndar Representatives from Newhope agreed, and facing the horrors of war again, donned his armor and glaive.

The Civil War finally ended at the Battle of Pyre Hills, and with it his volunteer service to Newhope. Before snow even hit the ground, Amrod demanded the representatives make true their promise. By the next spring, Amrod had a small cottage and small farm at the very edge of the colonies. Near a known commune of other Shatter Tribes members, it is here where Amrod now resides, and rests his weary battered soul. He travels in his off time, finding work with the soil and land as his ancestors did. However, memories seldom fade, and old habits die hard.

Talmore Kard

PLAYED BY: Elias Lambert

CHARACTER NAME: Talmore Kard

GENDER: male

PRONOUN(S): he/him

CLASS: Warrior

AGE: 17

RACE: human

HAIR: brown

EYES: hazel

OCCUPATION: Blade of Sol Specialist

KNOWN SKILLS: Combat, tactics and strategy, dabbles with hunting

BIRTHPLACE: near the docks of newhope

APPEARANCE: an armored and scruffy looking teen, carries a very recognizable shield

NOTABLE TRAITS: fought as a young kid in the Gladiator arenas of Newhope.

RELATIONSHIPS: The Blades of Sol member

RUMORS: why was he a gladiator, and if so why did he stop performing

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:
If you care to ask, my life was and is a case for serious speculation of the sanity of myself and the people around me. Pull up a chair, and a beer, and I’ll tell you my tale.

It all began 17 years ago when a small boy was born on the docks of Newhope. I’ve always loved to explore. As a lad, I would run down the docks of my home and greet the fisherman that returned with the daily catch. I remember quite vividly my boyhood daydreams of one day exploring beyond the edges of the maps and seeing what I might find there. But with age came the reality I couldn’t simply sail off into the horizon leaving my family and friends behind. I would have to settle for barely scraping by on money from working at my father’s smithy. I was just 15 when I saw my first show at the great gladiatorial arena of Newhope. By the end of the first fight, I knew this was the profession I truly wished to pursue. Later that day, I tracked down the proprietor and host of the arena, a surly old Syndar by the name of Yvan Ixil. At first he was not eager to hire a teenager to fight in his arena, but after a few pints of ale he agreed under one condition; he would decide the fights I was to partake in. And so it was, I would get out of bed, run to the arena, and train. I learned to fight with swords, axes, spears, shields, and many more. I would take breaks only to eat and sleep.

I remember it was a sunny day in May when Yvan interrupted me during axe training. “You’re ready lad,” he said “tonight’s fight is very relaxed. There will be few spectators, and you will use the sword and shield as your weapons. The fighter you will be facing is Cillan Vox. He is known for underhanded tricks, so watch for those”.

When the time came, I walked through the training area and into the main fighting ground of the arena. Vox stood still on the other side of the arena, spear and net clutched in his hand. Without warning, he rushed forward. I met him in the center of the arena floor. He opened by throwing his net on my sword arm. I tried to shake it loose, but it seemed to be sticking to me in some way. I didn’t feel any pain until I looked at my arm. There were small metal barbs built into the net, and the more I struggled, the more it would cut. I took his follow up blow on the shield and tried to swing my sword at him. White hot pain stabbed through my arm, so I let it go limp at my side. I was driven back across the sand by a flurry of thrusts from his spear.

As I was being driven back, I devised a plan. Not the most sound plan, but it would do. As he thrust out again instead of blocking, I threw my shoulder against the shield and slammed it into the spear. It tumbled from his grip onto the ground, he immediately dropped to the ground to pick it up. Just as he righted himself, I slammed my shield into his head as hard as I could. Vox fell to the ground, unconscious. The scarce crowd cheered rather quietly for the arena, but for me, it seemed louder than any other sound I had ever heard. When I looked down, I saw the net drenched in blood. When I made it back to the training area, Yvan tended to my wounds, removing the net as well as cleaning and stitching my wounds. As he did, he prayed to Solar, the god of the sun, to preserve me.

After that, I fought almost every night at that arena. I became quite proficient in tactics and strategy, and for a year I was happy. Until the war came. I remember the day that a squad of armed soldiers arrived at the arena and began to train us as real soldiers.

Yvan knew I was not prepared for war, so one day he smuggled me a pouch of coins and a spare sword and shield, then he sent me on my way. I don’t hold it against him, but nevertheless those months of unemployment were among my hardest. My father had retired from the forge at almost the perfect time, so there was no job for me to fall back on. I did odd jobs around town for a while, but that began to bore me, and the pay was too inconsistent to live off of. Soon after my sixth rejection from a potential job opportunity, I realized if I wanted to find work that wasn’t mining or smithing I would need to seek it northward. So I packed my meager possessions and put every scrap of money I had into provisions, then I departed as promptly as I could. It wasn’t long until I crossed into Nightriver territory, stopping at towns looking for work on occasion. When none were found, I would continue on. I continued my trek and soon found myself on the border to Goldenfield, moved through Goldenfield and Spiritclaw, mostly staying on the shoreline until I crossed the border of Aylin’s Reach.

The first town I ran across, I had entered in need of provisions and supplies. I sat down at the bar, waved the bartender over, and asked if they knew of any work for a former gladiator of Newhope.

He leaned in and whispered conspiratorily “Not presently, but north of here is a place called Lumiria. The Night Owl tavern, in its basement, was an arena of sorts. If it’s fighting you like, that’s the place for you.”

I thanked the man and left the tavern. Finally, a new arena. A place to hone my skills to perfection. I almost ran the whole way to Lumiria. When I arrived five days later, I made it straight for the Night Owl tavern. I approached the innkeeper and asked about the arena.

“It’s less of an arena” he said, “and more of a… private combat club.” He then pointed me to the stairs.

The basement smelt of liquor and sweat. A crowd covering the walls stood on their raised benches, leaning towards the fenced off area in the pit of the basement. Within the fences were a pair of combatants, engaged in a fistfight.

“Not really what I was expecting, but good enough” I whispered to myself.

One of the contestants collapsed after a particularly sharp right hook to the jaw.

“Any of ya’ brave enough to be my next victim?” the victor shouted.

“I will” I shouted over the crowd.

“A boy?” He laughed, “well come on down here then.”

I walked calmly to my opponent, he threw a jab at my head that I ducked under. I took the opportunity to maneuver under his guard and punch him in the side of the head, making sure that one of my knuckles slammed into his temple. Needless to say, he collapsed.

I fought for the next hour. By the end I was sore and tired but felt on top of the world. After the fight I was approached by a man in a blue outfit. “Hey kid, I’m one of the captains with the Blades of Sol. We could always use another fighter, or helping hand, or whatever. If you’re interested, go talk to Elzerith. He’s the golden Celestine Syndar who is usually in the offices, he runs the show.”

So I did. For a few days, I looked around Lumiria for Elzerith. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a man who fit his description giving a speech about the Light of Sol in the town square. After his speech, I intercepted him as he was leaving the marketplace and explained my situation to him.

“Ah, Seymore sent you. This one must inquire if one had a relationship with Solar prior to interaction with Seymore” Elzerith inquired in the strangely roundabout Syndar mannerisms rumors whispered of.

“Yes, my martial trainer back in Newhope was a worshiper of Solar, and many of the healing magicks he performed to restore my health were done in his name.”

Elzerith studied me for a moment, “You are more than welcome to join our group. Should you be willing, we shall teach you more of Sol and his ways, as well as be taught the tenets of the Blades of Sol.”

And so I spent my first few weeks in their company studying Sol. At the end of that small time, I signed my name with their group. Ever since, I have been traveling in their company. I haven’t a clue where my story will go next, but I know that I’ll be ready for it.

Liliana Valeria

PLAYED BY: Winter Edwardson

CHARACTER NAME: Liliana Valeria

GENDER: woman

PRONOUN(S): she/they

CLASS: cleric

AGE: 33

RACE: human

HAIR: dark blonde

EYES: blue

OCCUPATION: escort/ritualist

KNOWN SKILLS: divine magic

BIRTHPLACE: Southern Vandregon

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

“There is truth in pain. Scars set our path. Mercy is not clean, mercy bleeds.”

These were only a few of the lessons taught to me by sister Violeta, the lessons of Saint Corren, the scarred martyr. I spent my youth with her, learning to balance the humors with prayer to heal the sick and wounded. Sister Violeta said I was but a waif when she found me, no parents to speak of.

I reveled in her teachings, finding the truth in pain something delightful. Sister Violeta would tell me that I took to her teachings like a fish to water. I enjoyed the study of wounds and taking them onto myself. Those were the best years, but they couldn’t last. The undead war kept us moving.

We finally had to consider fleeing. We worked and saved the coin we could but there wasn’t enough for both of us. Sister Violeta said she would send me ahead, that she would find her own way, but I could smell the lie she tried to weave. I gave her a parting hug and boarded the ship.

On my journey to the new land I met my friend Tymraetheleon. We became fast friends, Thell and I. We spoke of many things, of magic, of the new world, of what our paths might hold. We decided to travel together upon landing. Some years later she would run a tavern and I could provide religious services.

Tymraetheleon

PLAYED BY: Natalie Wheeler

CHARACTER NAME: Tymraetheleon (Tym)

GENDER: woman

PRONOUN(S): she/her/hers

CLASS: Mage

AGE: 31

RACE: Syndar (Io’larian)

HAIR: black

EYES: blue

OCCUPATION: barkeep / ritualist

KNOWN SKILLS: arcane magic, weaving

BIRTHPLACE: Io’larian tribe in the mountain ranges between Aldoria and Vandregon

APPEARANCE: Tym has antlers and round but pointed ears; she favors dark, flowing garb; she travels with the tools of a witch and a variety of odd ingredients.

NOTABLE TRAITS: inquisitive, mildly offputting

RELATIONSHIPS: Tym is very close to Liliana as noted below; they have been friends / chosen family since arriving to Mardrun and have learned magic alongside each other.

RUMORS: some people say that Tym once glared at a man so hard that he went mad.

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

I recall clearly the day I was ripped from my home and forced by dire circumstance upon the ship headed for Mardrun. Although I was very young, I left a part of myself in that home, with the mountains and heather and polecats and all other life with which I’d been woven.

Yet, that tragic crossing also led me to Liliana, and to others who would help me hone my craft in the next several decades.

I did not have the luxury of formal schooling or magical tutelage, but I had the privilege of learning from the gifted people in my settlement, and those passing through. I watched my mother and other Io’larian folk. I listened to travelers in the flicker of tavern light, generously providing me their insights. Liliana and I eagerly swapped knowledge, enticed by the foreignness of each other’s skills. I learned of working with ritual, song, Saints, Gods, spirits, pain, and the land. I did not connect with all of these methods, yet I drank up every piece of knowledge I could.

I have developed an inkling that people are only scratching the surface of their own potential. They are held back by rigidity, shrinking away from true power and the mysteries that come with it. They have witnessed magick beyond comprehension – on Faedrun, and now on Mardrun as well – and they will not allow themselves the possibility that they could tap into it the very same.

We must break ourselves free of these mental bonds if we stand any chance of driving back the undead scourge and reclaiming our lands. Liliana and I have sworn to grasp the threads of our own power and follow them to their truest conclusion.

Sigfrøðr

PLAYED BY: Ty Springer

CHARACTER NAME: Sigfrøðr (pronounced Sig-freeth)

GENDER: Male

PRONOUN(S): he/him

CLASS: Warrior

AGE: 35

RACE: Ulven

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Hazel

OCCUPATION: Lead the Ironshear war pack during the Civil War and has since taken up sheep farming and textile working in Onrich.

KNOWN SKILLS: Spear fighting, weaving, spinning, tactics

BIRTHPLACE: Pack Ironshear

APPEARANCE: Greying hair and tired eyes

RELATIONSHIPS: Mated with Helga Nighriver

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY: Sigfrøðr had always thought himself as a farmer first, soldier second. The Ironshear pack had emphasized the value of using the Great Wolf’s strength not only for battle, to provide for your people. Working on his family’s sheep farm helped to build that strength, but like many pups, Sigfrøðr yearned for action and trained himself in spear and axe fighting.

So as tensions grew on the Nightriver coast, Sigfrøðr saw an opportunity for glory. He joined the pack’s war party and traveled with them to face the threat of Grimward. The other members of the war pack were a mix of skill and experience, some having fought mordok and others untested in combat. It was in this war pack that Sigfrøðr would meet his future mate, Helga, a fellow inexperienced fighter.

They could not have been prepared to fight their own. The warriors of Grimward were fierce, organized, and intelligent. Sigfrøðr learned quickly under the pressure of battle. He studied strategy with the war pack leader and, within two years, became the leader of his own war pack with his now mate by his side.

Sigfrøðr’s pack was relatively successful against their enemies, mostly picking small guerilla battles on the border between territories. When they were called to aid at Black Wolf Creek, the pack believed it would be a typical operation: support the flanks, keep the enemy from ambushing, kill the enemy. They were not prepared for what awaited them.

Right from the beginning the battle was different. The Grimward attackers were more frenzied than usual, more bloodthirsty. All around him Sigfrøðr watched his comrades fall. He barked orders at his pack as the Grimward units ganged up on them. One after another, the warriors he fought side by side with for months were cut down. It was down to only a handful of warriors when Sigfrøðr called his pack to fall back and regroup with the main line.

As they retreated, Sigfrøðr and Helga held the rear, fighting off the Grimward warriors pursuing them. As they ran back to reinforcements, archers took out one of their men. Then another. Until only the mated pair remained.

Sigfrøðr teetered on the edge of panic and rage as he maintained the fighting retreat. Another arrow whizzed through the air, this time piercing him through the leg. While struggling not to black out from exhaustion and pain, he heard the tell tale splintering of his mate’s shield. Helga had taken an axe to the helm and had blood running down her face, her eyes burning with adrenaline. “We need to cut and run.” Sigfrøðr said through gritted teeth.

Helga looked to him to see a second arrow burst through the trees to hit her mate in the shoulder. He couldn’t hold back the scream this time. Without hesitation Helga flung her injured mate over her shoulder and sprinted away from their attackers. She hopped over fallen logs and through thorny brush, barely seeing as the blood dripped further. It was at the healer’s tent that Helga collapsed, her body exhausted from the run, the fight, and the injuries she’d been ignoring.

After the battle had ended, Sigfrøðr and Helga were sent from the front to recover. They returned to Onrich, a settlement of farmers and Sigfrøðr’s childhood home. It took months until Sigfrøðr spoke again. He had spent his time after the war focusing on a small sheep and wool farm. He tended the sheep and processed the wool while his mate ran a blacksmith shop making tools for their fellow farmers. It was quiet and calm.

Never again did Sigfrøðr expect to pick up a spear. Never again did he intend to face down the blade of a Grimward warrior. But life has other plans.

Avelina Squallborn

PLAYED BY: Emily Alligood

CHARACTER NAME: Avelina Squallborn

GENDER: Female

PRONOUN(S): She/Her

CLASS: Cleric

AGE: 28

RACE: Ulven

HAIR: Red

EYES: Blue

OCCUPATION: Avelina was raised in a fishing family and has continued to work in the family business.

KNOWN SKILLS: Avelina is a skilled fisherman and sailor. She was raised on the coast and is familiar with skills such as gardening and hunting to supplement during harsh winters when the coast freezes over or a wolf’s wind make the seas unsafe.

BIRTHPLACE: I was born in what is now former Clan Squallborn territory in 246.

APPEARANCE: Avelina is quiet, but with a strong and steady demeanor.

NOTABLE TRAITS: No notable traits.

RELATIONSHIPS: Avelina recently met and befriended Hersir Imrick and has joined the organization called the Stormborn Coast (or the name of the organization once it has been approved, as it is in progress). In this process, she has befriended the other members of the organization, especially Mirth, who answers her endless questions about the world. Avelina grew up as the best friend of Bodil’s daughter, Hilda.

RUMORS: There are rumors in her small village that Avelina consorts with humans and prefers them to Ulven company. She is believed to have a party streak despite being so quiet, in the same way that people say ‘it’s always the quiet ones’.

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

Avelina was born to a successful fishing family and grew up spending her days on the sea and her nights with her pack. She spent time at the markets with her family where she met her friend Hilda, daughter of Bodil Squallborn. Avelina always had a fascination with the world at large, asking questions of traveling merchants, and wondering just how far her little skiff could take her. Her pack tolerated this curiosity at first, seeing the intrigue of a small child as a gift. The older she got, though, the more her questions were met with unhappy answers- first it was changed subjects, awkward silence, and soon outright hostility. As confused as she was, she harbored her curiosity in secret, being careful not to disrupt the harmony of the pack, and more importantly, the clan.

One day, when she was about 13 years old, Avelina was playing with Hilda when they overheard raised voices from across the house- they heard Bodil, the clan leader, discussing humans in Squallborn territory. The young girls crept into the hallway to listen to the story, they heard of humans, coming from Faedrun, a land overrun with monsters as if in a living nightmare. They heard of scared families running from devastation, abandoning their homes and their people, to keep their families safe. However, these families now needed a place to stay, to rebuild, and they wanted to consider the lan of Clan Squallborn as an option. At the thought of so many new people, their new stories and new ideas, Avelina gasped in excitement, which drew the attention of Hilda’s mother, Siegrid. She discreetly shooed them back into the den where the girls had been playing and shut the door. Avelina was bright eyed and full of questions, but Siegrid hushed her quickly. She told the girls to keep what they’d heard to themselves as this would be a matter for the clan leaders and not something for little wolves to worry about. Avelina was perplexed. She couldn’t understand why this would be anything other than exciting, and told Siegrid just that. Knowing the girls and their insatiable curiosity, she had no choice but to discuss with the girls long into the evening. As they spoke, Avelina recalled the mumbled answers, the silence, and the anger she’d encountered when asking about new people and lands; it all fell into place for her that night.

From that day on, Avelina was far more quiet. She stayed out of the conversations about the war, stood by as a quiet observer, humming in agreement as needed and simply gathering the thoughts of her pack mates, hearing the sentiments intensify day by day until the sparks of feared blazed into a civil war. Avelina watched her pack, her friends, and Bodil move through the war, through raids, and the fateful day of Attenjav. It tore her heart to see her family, once so revered, brought down so low. Despite the war and the raids, the pain and horror she’d seen and experienced, her curiosity remained, though now with a shameful trickle of guilt to accompany it.

As it always does, life continued. Avelina sailed with her family, eventually earning her own skiff, and went to market to support her family. She tried to shove away the curiosity, but the more her pack worked and waited for life to return to “normal”, the more she realized it never could. Out on the ocean, where she and Hilda could speak freely, Avelina confessed her ideas of a new future for Squallborn. A world where Ulven, Human, and Syndar, live together in peace. Hilda laughed at the thought, simply because the pack was now too beaten down, bitter, and angry to consider a future. Avelina wondered if she could begin the process of rebuilding a future for her people, hoping that one day, her people would want a new path, and see the value in curiosity as they had when she was just a little girl.

One fateful evening in a tavern the next town over, Avelina encountered a strange group of travelers, formerly known as the Golden Hand, who were looking for new opportunities in the area. As a daughter of former Clan Squallborn, and someone with a dream for the future, she leapt at the chance when she heard those fateful words- “are you looking for a job?”

Magdelena

PLAYER NAME: Kathy Beltran

CHARACTER NAME: Magdelena

GENDER: Female

PRONOUN(S):she/her

CLASS:

AGE: 30ish

RACE: Human

HAIR: Blonde

EYES: Blue

OCCUPATION: Owner/Operator of The Gilded Griffin Tavern and Inn; Companion; Escort

KNOWN SKILLS: Barkeeping, Accounting

BIRTHPLACE: Faedrun

NOTABLE TRAITS

RELATIONSHIPS: Many. If they have passed through Starkhaven, they likely either had a drink or stayed at her business. If they live there, the chances are much higher.

RUMORS: Many. She encourages them by adding on her own embellishments. Most don’t know what is true and what is not.

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY

EARLY LIFE

Magdelena was born into a modest, hardworking family in a small village on Faedrun. From a young age, she showed an exceptional intellect, an uncanny ability to make fast friends who would pour their heart out to her. Like many, her village was caught in a battle in the battles against the Undead and Penitent. With her family dead and her village burnt to the ground, she became another war orphan.

ON FAEDRUN

Magdelena moved to areas of Faedrun untouched by the war. Destitute, she took up odd jobs as available. This usually meant cleaning or being a serving maid. In the taverns and inns her personality shone through, and she quickly made a modest living that way. However, a young woman with good looks and charm can also make money in other ways. Many people will pay for company, especially with someone like her. So she took up being an Escort as well as a Tavern maid.

Magdalena was doing that when she was discovered by a well known Madam. Seeing her talent wasted, Magdalena was swept off to Southern Vandregon for education in being a Companion to the wealthy and powerful. There her talents flourished. As time went on, she was entrusted with running one of the Madame’s establishments as well, turning it into a thriving social venue for high and low born alike.

LIFE ON MARDRUN

As the war worsened, Magdelena saw the writing on the wall sooner than most. That is what happens when the high and mighty will let slip their worries to you. As such, she packed what supplies and coins she could, and made for the colony of Newhope. She was well enough known that she could get a job in one of the budding taverns. However, much of her support and connections never made the trip over. She was back to the beginning.

Over the years, she managed to slowly save enough silver through her work to be able to afford her own place. Unfortunately, Newhope had grown and was saturated with taverns. However, she learned that the Order colony of Starkhaven had started to grow again after a long decline. Seeing an opportunity, she readied to move there. The Order Civil War briefly paused those plans, but afterwards provided even more opportunity to rebuild. Bidding Newhope farewell, she made the trek to Starkhaven to open her own tavern.

RUNNING THE GILDED GRIFFIN

Magdelena now runs the Gilded Griffin with the care and precision of someone who has built something entirely her own.Though she started small, the tavern and inn situated in a comfortable corner of Starkhaven, has earned a well-deserved reputation for warmth, hospitality, and quiet charm. From early morning until the hearth burns low at night, the Gilded Griffin remains a steady presence in the lives of locals and travelers alike.

The main room is inviting, filled with polished wooden tables, rich red draperies, and the warm scent of bread and stew. Magdelena oversees it all with practiced ease—welcoming guests with a kind smile, smoothing over disputes with a gentle word, and making sure no tankard sits empty for long. Her eye for detail ensures that everything runs smoothly, from the kitchens to the guest rooms upstairs.

Though she hires capable staff, Magdelena is never far from the work. She can often be found tending bar, accounting ledgers open at her elbow, or quietly speaking with regulars who seek her advice. Her presence brings a sense of calm and order to the tavern, and her reputation for fairness and discretion has made the Griffin a favored gathering place for merchants, guards, and travelers from across the region.

The upstairs rooms are modest but clean, with thoughtful touches like fresh linens, sturdy locks, and warm lighting. Guests who stay the night often comment on how peaceful the place feels, as though trouble knows better than to cross its threshold.

While the Griffin is a public house, those with discerning tastes or quiet needs know to inquire subtly about the private rooms and finer services the inn occasionally provides. Magdelena is known not only as a skilled tavern keeper but as a discreet and charming companion to those of influence—offering conversation, counsel, and cultivated company to those who seek it. These services are not advertised, but in Starkhaven, little stays secret for long—only quiet and well-managed. Her reputation for discretion and warmth makes her a favored host among the town’s notables and passing dignitaries alike. Some speak of evenings spent in her company as equal parts relaxing and enlightening, describing her with words usually reserved for old friends or wise confidantes.

Above all, Magdelena runs the Gilded Griffin not simply as a business, but as a refuge. She treats her patrons with genuine care, offering a warm meal, a quiet place to think, and, when needed, a sympathetic ear. She rarely speaks about her past, but there is a sense about her—a quiet strength and worldliness—that hints at a life beyond tavern walls.

CURRENTLY

No one really knows how Magdalena became entangled with the Militia Commander. Some say it is because he used the Gilded Griffin as a meeting place for a Syndar from the Fire Isle. Either way, her skills were noticed and she soon was called on to take a greater role in the affairs of Starkhaven and the Order.

Khanomzade Elazaros Ben-Miryanthe Ampeliel

PLAYED BY: Jared Levine

CONTACT INFO: CaelCyndar@gmail.com, FancyCreb on Discord

CHARACTER NAME: Khanomzade Elazaros Ben-Miryanthe Ampeliel

GENDER: Man

PRONOUN(S): He/Him

CLASS: Rogue

AGE: 36, born 238

RACE: Human

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Blue

OCCUPATION: Once, the heir to the title and fortune of his mother, a wine baroness, if that could be considered a profession. Now, a wanderer, a dreamer, a lover?

KNOWN SKILLS: Recuperation, passing the time, sampling Mardrun’s delights.

BIRTHPLACE: Keramezion, a province in northwestern Themakis

APPEARANCE: Elazaros has long silky hair kept in a luxurious ponytail, the style appropriate to a man of good stock.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Khanom Miryanthe Ampeliel – Mother. Miryanthe was once Khanom of Keramezion. When she fled the May’kar Dominion, she took with her as much of her wealth and assets as she could, including seeds for the drought-resistant grapes that their eyalet was known for. In Mardrun her title has been replaced by ‘baroness’, though she still prefers the original version.
Malachion – Servant. Deceased, killed during honor duel on Elazaros’s behalf.
Dinora – Servant. Deceased, drowned while attempting to ford the Yurnai.
Nessaia – Servant. Deceased, crushed by giant boulder.
Danilos – Servant. Deceased, killed by a Mordok.
Glorga – Lover? A mysterious and beautiful Mordok woman that Elazaros met during his travels, when she attacked his caravan (see ‘Danilos’). She seemingly spared him, clearly because of their great mutual love and attraction. He is driven by the sole desire to find her once more so that they can be united. He’s pretty sure someone said ‘Glorga’ to her at one point, so that must be her name.
Imrick Oakenbrow – Employer. Imrick has obviously seen great potential in Elazaros and has hired him to tend bar, something only someone of his great skill and pedigree could do.

RUMORS: Some would describe Elazaros as ‘lazy’, ‘foolhardy’, ‘self-important’ and even ‘destitute’, but clearly those people have never met him, as he is an extremely interesting and humble person.

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY: The following is a letter, which has miraculously managed to make it to Newhope, having barely managed to survive the journey in one piece.

“Dear Mumsy,

It is I, your beloved eldest son, Elazaros. By the time you are receiving this letter, it will have been one full year since I have left home. I do not know if you have noticed my absence, you are so busy with your work, and I did not want to bother you as I left. I took only the bare essentials- nothing but the clothes on my back, and several additional sets in my luggage, which of course was carried by four of our finest servants (may their souls rest in peace).

The journey has been difficult. It wasn’t at first, but after Malachion was tragically and unavoidably killed defending my honor after a slight cultural misunderstanding that was blown way out of proportion (by the Ulven, I assure you), I was forced to walk, as everyone knows that a palanquin requires four servants to carry it, and three will simply not do. Once I was forced to walk, things got significantly harder. For one, my feet began to hurt!

Ah, but I have gotten ahead of myself. You must be wondering why I have left, and renounced my inheritance to your title. (oh, by the way, I renounce my inheritance to your title. Sorry!) As you may remember, I have always loved board games. On Faedrun, we had such lovely sets gathered from across the continent. I will never forget the kindness you showed me on my eighth birthday, acquiring the very Matraquer board used to bludgeon Margrave Thuriel to death. I still have the tooth that fell out of the bottom of the board when we first played upon it. Right. As I was saying, now that we have been living on Mardrun, surrounded by all these interesting Ulven peoples, I wished to see what sort of games they’ve made for themselves.

Unfortunately, I have seen a great deal of misfortune along the way. After Malachion’s death, I traveled north, and we found ourselves at a great river. I had heard stories of the Clan that lived across it, and so we decided to ford across. Dinora was tasked with the great duty of carrying all of the silver (oh I forgot to mention, I took a teeny amount of silver to keep myself afloat, only a few pounds of coins) across. As we were almost to the opposite shore, we were accosted by brigands! They threatened us with their swords and axes. I bravely ordered a retreat, and the three of us made it safely back to the other shore. I say three, of course, because sweet Dinora was not with us. It appeared that, weighed down by the silver, she had stumbled into a slightly deep part of the river, and had drowned.

After the failed venture north, we decided to travel east, through an area I now understand is called ‘Night River’. I do not know what sort of river flows only during the night, but I’m glad we did not see it, because our footing was treacherous enough! We traveled along the river for a while, so that we would not get lost, but then it ended and we found ourselves in a terribly rocky region. We attempted to climb so that we might be able to better survey the area. It was very hard, so I got uppies from Nessaia and Danilos. After being raised up to what I thought was the perfect platform, the ground beneath me began to shift! I bravely leapt out of the way to safety, but poor Nessaia was completely squished, flatter than the coins that killed dutiful sweet Dinora. I will never forget her final words: “Oh no!”

Eventually, the two of us remaining made our way back down, and then we got very lost. Everything that I have described up until now happened in the first week. The following eleven months were, shall I say, an uneventful slog of the two of us in the woods, surviving through the combination of Danilos’s great experience as a hunter, cook, explorer, and naturalist, as well as my excellent leadership and ability to get a good night’s sleep even in stressful circumstances. I grew a beard! I think I will keep it.

However, soon my fate would be changed forever. In the deep woods, we encountered a group of Ulven, who were very kind and shared good food and good company with us. They were hunters from a nearby village- apparently we have been less than a day’s walk away from civilization for quite some time now! I do not know if Danilos found this quite as entertaining as I did, but I guess with my poet’s soul I just appreciate some good irony.

We began to set back off with them towards their village, but suddenly, it seemed we had more company! Some strange green fellows who spoke in a language I have never heard, and after all that time I spent learning the Ulven tongue! The hunters called them ‘Mordok’ and with them was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Her tusks, they glistened. Her muscles, they swelled. Her skin, dewey, green, and scarred, like a cantaloupe. I was so enraptured by her appearance, that I hardly noticed as the others that traveled with her cut down our Ulven friends. And poor Danilos as well, who threw himself in the way of the woman’s blade, which she mistakenly swung at me!

And then, as she drew her sword from the quickly-cooling corpse of Danilos, with whom I have had many great foibles and adventures, we locked eyes. Her beautiful amber eyes bored holes into me, out of love, I assume. Moments took hours, and at the end of them, it was just me and the Mordok. One of the others said ‘Glorga’ to her, which I took to be her name, and the group of them departed. This was terrible! It forced Glorga to leave me, clearly against her will, and it left me with the duty of having to figure out what to do with all my dead friends.

Eventually I managed to find my way to the village, and I informed them of what had happened. They were somewhat rude to me after that, and sent me on my way. I decided to go looking for Glorga, who must be so distraught without me, and got lost again (I won’t bore you with the details but things were much harder without Danilos) and eventually found myself in a city owned by a group called the ‘Storm Yarls’. I have a job now! I charmed my way into a bar while evading some ne’er-do-wells called the ‘Ain Heryar’ (who are weirdly into wolves, might I add) and pretended to serve drinks to people, by putting various ingredients into a glass and pouring alcohol over them, which they seemed to like! One of those people liked me so much, he offered me a job, and that is how I have managed to afford to send you this letter.

Anyway, mumsy, being poor is hard. I have had to write very small letters, as I could only afford this one piece of paper. Could you perhaps send some silver back my way? Even a meager hundred coins or two would serve me quite well, I think. Oh, and speaking of serving, if you have any servants looking to see more of the world, I would be happy to take them off your hands!

Soon I will return to my search for Glorga. Though I know it will pain you so, I will not return home until she and I are together once more.

Hugs and kisses,

Khanomzade Elazaros Ben-Miryanthe Ampeliel AKA Your special baby boy”

Mirtharaellorin

PLAYED BY: Marisa Considine

CHARACTER NAME: Mirtharaellorin (or Mirth, as the humans have called them for short)

GENDER: Nonbinary

PRONOUN(S): They/Them

CLASS: Mage

AGE: 83

RACE: Syndar

OCCUPATION: Former Thief, Former Karindren Lighthouse Keeper, Current Adventurer

KNOWN SKILLS: Lighthouse Keeping Skills, Thieving Skills

BIRTHPLACE: The Kingdom of Karindren

APPEARANCE: A very fish-like Syndar, they have sharp teeth and scale patterned skin.

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Brown

RELATIONSHIPS: None outside of other player characters, though other Karindren may know of them.

Bio:

Of all the known justice systems in the world, it is said that the Syndar justice system moved the most slowly. Terribly slowly. Abysmally slowly. So slowly the slowness is literally legendary to this day. And of all of the Syndar nations, no justice system moved quite so slowly as that of The Kingdom of Karindren. As the most traditional of all the Synar nations it contained the greatest number of sticklers for procedure, troglodytes, and stick-in-the-mud assholes in all of Faedrun. In other words, The Kingdom of Karindren’s justice system was particularly full of dawdlers and sluggards who would much rather sit around debating each other than giving you a straight answer. But to Mirtharaellorin (or Mirth for short), it was home.

Mirth grew up on the streets of Karindren’s capital. They never knew their parents, and frankly, never wanted to. As a so-called “feral” Syndar they were at the bottom of the Syndar racial tiers. That coupled with the strict two child policy in the Kingdom of Karindren meant that their parents probably just abandoned their so they could get a better looking baby. It’s something Mirth made peace with at a young age. There’s no point in worrying about people who don’t care about you. With luck they had a better baby and at least they didn’t drown them or something. Things could have been much worse.

But we were talking about the justice system. Mirth had many run-ins with the justice system during their life. It’s something that tends to happen when you’re hungry. It started when they were a child. Around the human equivalent of 8 or so years. Thy were captured after stealing some fish from a local fisherman. It was a year before they finally let them go. Ultimately, it was decided that they were too young to be considered a moral agent and as a mere moral patient they should be allowed their freedom. This would be their shortest run in with the law.

Stealing jewelry at the equivalent of 12 years of age was a three year trial for a total sentence of a month of community service. It was ultimately argued that it would be inappropriate to apply Retributive Justice to someone so young but that some amount of Restorative Justice was necessary for the sake of the parties harmed by Mirth’s theft.

At the equivalent of 16 they were on trial for trespassing and faking credentials for four months and then ended up on trial for the next few years for failure to appear in court. They were, at the time, tired of appearing in court. But the trial for, now, all three of their crimes too until they entered adulthood. At which point their trial was thankfully ended by the argument that as an adult they should not be considered liable for crimes they committed as a child.

A trial for jaywalking, which should have taken a relatively quick two months of deliberation, ended up taking two YEARS instead as Mirth’s past transgressions were debated. Repeat offenders are sentenced to Reclamation after all. To what extent should it matter the severity of the crimes? They were freed in the end, but this was getting ridiculous.

Being a known repeat offender, especially a FERAL repeat offender makes it difficult for one to get a job. So once they were back out on the streets Mirth had no choice but to return to their life of crime. It was just a way of life. You steal to eat, you steal to barter, you steal to sell. This is how Mirth found themself breaking into a lighthouse one night. The lighthouse was positioned on the edge of town overlooking a rocky shore. The turning light of the tower felt like an accusing stare, each pass of its beam a silent reminder that they did not belong there.

They picked the lock and made their way inside. They were quick and quiet, looking through the various objects there for valuables. It was clear someone lived there, this was someone’s home. They just hoped that they were too busy working to notice them. They were digging through a cabinet when he came up behind them. They only became aware of him through the sensation of someone tapping on their shoulder. They spun around.

“Excuse me?” The voice belonged to an old Syndar. Very old. His face was a spider’s web of lines and wrinkles. He was Serous. They pulled out a knife.

“Just go upstairs old man. Just go upstairs and leave me be and no one has to get hurt.” Their hands trembled. They knew that if they were to be arrested for this the Reclaments would Hollow them. On the other hand, they had never taken a life.

The old man looked at their trembling hands and looked back at them. There was a long silence before he spoke. All he said was, “Would you like a job?”

That is how Mirth ended up working at the lighthouse and how, though they did not know it yet, how they would end up surviving the calamity that would see all of Karindren destroyed.

They had turned their life around, they hadn’t been arrested in years, and they had a good relationship with Tordiyannarasin, the Serous Syndar who had taken them in. For Mirth things had gotten better. They had food in their belly, a place to sleep, they even started picking up a few hobbies. But for Faedrun, things had gotten worse over the years. There was talk now of the undead, of penitents. Yet, things seemed relatively safe in Karindren. They were on an island, separate from the mainland. Surely they would be safe here.

It took time, but eventually war did come to the Karindren. Eventually hundreds of ships would make their way to the harbor to be part of the escape fleet, a fleet that Mirth was not allowed to be on. It turns out no one wants a known, potentially violent criminal, on their ship, especially one that has not been Hollowed. They could have snuck aboard, they could have clambered onto one of the ships. In the chaos of Karindren’s last stand they could have made it easily to the harbor. But they didn’t want them there, and someone had to keep the lighthouse lit. Otherwise, how would Tordiyannarasin safely make it to the ships to escape? They bid him a tearful farewell, and went to stand at their post to help the ships safely avoid the rocky bluff the lighthouse stood on.

A few hours later they were looking over the horizon at an enormous wall of water quickly closing in towards their lighthouse.They ran towards the backside, looking at the path up to the lighthouse for any sign of Tordiyannarasin, any chance of him making it to the ships. They saw him moments before the water overtook him. The force of the water hitting the lighthouse almost knocked them into the sea. They clung to its railing as the water destroyed everything they had ever known. When the waters abated all they could see around them was ruins, destruction, and water. Nothing was left. They had no idea what had happened.

They managed to escape the lighthouse by turning some cabinets into a small boat. By some luck they were able to find out that there were ships leaving from New Aldoria, and by some luck they managed to find their way onto one of them. But wherever they went there was no sign of their people. Instead there were a new strange sort of people known as humans. They would soon discover that they age and die quickly. They live short lives. But they are a lively, kind, and welcoming people. They greatly enjoyed their presence, strange though they were. They mourned them often. Not only in the moments when they died, but also in the moments when they changed. It is difficult to watch your friends age around you when you feel so very stuck in place. There were days when they wished they could shorten their life to be more like them.

So eventually they pulled away from them too. Why get hurt? They returned to their life of crime, general banditry, and thievery. It was easier in a way than having to get a job in a human city, watch all your co-workers get old and move on, and watch their children, who you once cared for, uncomfortably become your peers. Humans are lovely but they change too much.

This is how things continued for some time until the day they stole from one particular group.

They were a group of traveling merchants, or so they had been told. Rich and prosperous. Easy marks. They’d just sneak in, steal their money, run, and then have food to eat for the rest of the week. They broke into one of their caravans one night. They WERE rich. They were pocketing bags of silver. They opened one box to find… sausages? Just a box of sausages?

They felt a tap on their shoulder. They spun around. There were SEVERAL people in the room with them. They pulled out their knife, their hands shaking. “Just turn around, please, no one has to get hurt. Just turn around and let me go.”

And the one in the front, a man dressed in rich purple hues said, “Uhh, do you want a job?”