Varn (Red Kobold Artificer Historian) &
Dagger in Boot (Tabaxi Rogue)
It was meant to be a short trip to learn more of the cultures in that place, but my curiosity overtook me. On our trip to the Tabaxi village a black furred Tabaxi asked us to help him get through an ancient ruin so that he could finally be seen as a man. The others refused as they heard tales from the local goblin that the site was cursed, but that information only pushed me further. Imagine what the discovery would do for my reputation, I would be a legend.
I agreed to travel with the cat and only a few short hours later we stumbled upon it. It was a massive seal in the ground, it was made of bronze and had murals upon it from many different tribes, the murals were obviously warnings that any creature could understand. With no way to open it with our scrawny frames, I decided that the only way for us to achieve our goals was to blast the seal off its hinges, and so I did that act not knowing that I might have just doomed this new world.
It was a sheer drop down but luckily both me and my feline friend had rope so together we tied the ropes together and then tied the now doubled rope to a sturdy tree. The two of us descended the rope into this long forgotten vault of knowledge, around us dug into the walls were images of an ancient race praising their own technological and arcane might, it showed us magnificent inventions and my lust for knowledge increased tremendously. Below us we could see a room in the shape of a giant sphere, within the sphere was layers of forges jutting out of the walls. Below all of that was a hoard of inventions all neatly stacked around the main feature, a colossal brass golem. The thing was quite obviously this civilizations biggest accomplishment yet the thing didn’t feel quite right, resting on its massive forehead was a symbol that was quite obviously infernal even for the likes of me who never quite learned the language.
Lucky right below the last few feet of the rope was a bridge connecting two sides of the room, from that point we descended down a flight of stairs until we reached the bottom, there we searched for items that were light enough to bring back with us to the surface, yet still interesting enough to send more expeditions down to this marvellous place. Each of us found wondrous things, I found a manual detailing how to create magical turrets that would fire on their own, the cat found a brass hexagonal prism with intricate engravings on everyone of its twelve sides. As soon as we grasped our artifacts we could hear grinding of metal. To our shock (even though it should have been expected), the colossus awoke and slowly turned to us, red flames in its eyes. In pure panic the two of us bolted out of that place with speed neither of us had ever achieved before. Nearing the outside world we could see the thing begin to pull itself out of the sphere. So with great haste we fled to the Tabaxi village.
With great fear we told our story of the ruin and pleaded for the other academics to leave the continent. And so with my heroic beg we left the land, the cat alongside us. It all seemed well but then we spotted the golem descend into the deep sea below.
Olir Kurga (Aasimar Sorcerer)
Born in a small town orlir never knew his parents just working with the acolytes in the temple.
What temple he didn’t know but this was life.
People would come and go but he would just help with his chores and cleaning. After all they took him in and took care of him and helped him grow up.
One day after years of being there he witnessed the selection ceremony. In which they brought up a young person and said some words and pressed a small bead to therefore forehead. Most of the time nothing happened or maybe a small light would appear and then they would get trained or brought to a different temple. Or get sent home.
So as time passed orlir pressed the temple acolytes for some information about where he came from or who were his parents, they told him his was dropped off and nobody knew. Then as always orlir asked if he could take the selection ceremony. They said not yet he had to get grownup so to speak.
The temple acolytes were the worst. Always going on about rules and how to do things. Not all bad but at least they stuck to the right side. Always pushing people to do better and to get out from the shadows, he really admired that about them. Always walking into the dark places in life and helping others out.
Orlir learned many skills from the acolytes such as cooking and mending. Some of them even had magic that was a real treat to see that.
Orlir smiled as he woke up. Man this is my day. My time to get the ceremony done. He had found out that this ceremony was on old ritual of choosing where life choose you for tasks. Some big, some small, others undecided.
As He walked up said the words the acolytes pressed the bead into his forehead. Radiant light erupted thru his eyes, burst open searing white hot light poured out. Soon after the acolytes gathered with orlir. He was asking what happened where am I going. All they told him was that he had been chosen for great things and off he went for training. He had been given quite a large sum of gold from the keepers there saying it was gifted to him when he was abandoned.
Orlir went to the celestial temple in faerun. And told to meditate and train.
He waited he listened he trained.
Slowly he could hear a guiding voice whispering to him, often in shadow, just when the light was running out. The voice spoke of ridding the lands of evil and purging the shadows of darkness.
Eventually orlir trained and left and started his adventure and quest to help the people of this land. Looking for adventure and to help others out.
Krivyax Shestendeliath grew up as a son of a Baron's blacksmith where once he became of age he took up his father's profession. He worked for a baron that took what he wanted or did what he pleases. raping villagers and killing serfs to build up his castle. but once Kriv reached 18years of age, he decided he was fed up with building the weapons that could cause harm and defend rich assholes. Instead, he began secretly sabotaged his barons' weapons and taking oaths. One night at the local pub with an empty bottle beside him and the townsfolk staring at him, Kriv was approached by a demon that shared an opportunity. The demon said: “Come meet my lord, he will give you great power to strike down all those that treat others as less.” Kriv had a quick thought, and wanting to gain more power to help others, accepted…. and to all the people that say paladins cannot be hell knights? Well, I like to say rules are meant to be broken.
Ondros the Healer (Loxodon Cleric)
Ondros the Healer is an 8 ft tall, 400 lb, 425 year old loxodon and a cleric of the nature domain. He has a very peaceful demeanour and is very loyal to his friends. The wrinkles around his light grey eyes record a wizened history as he nears the end of his life cycle. The wrinkles extend down his long trunk that he uses along with his hands in extraordinary coordination. When Ondros speaks, it is with a deep baritone voice with the crackle of age mixed with the smoothness of wisdom. His cut-down tusks have gold caps on the end in reverence to his faith along with his white robes with green trim. Always with his walking stick, Ondros will sometimes mount his silver coloured maul on his back for long trips where he feels protection is warranted.
Ondros was part of the Selesnya Conclave from a place far, far away. In fact if was another plane of existence called Ravnica. It was about 75 years ago when he was exploring a cave in Ravnica with fellow adventures and slipped and fell into a deep dark pit. Not knowing his companions scaled down the pit to look for him without success, he awoke days later with several injuries thinking he had been abandoned in a strange different dark cave. He managed to find his way out of this different cave system but soon realized he was not on Ravnica anymore.
As part of the Selesnya Conclave on Ravnica, Ondros had grown up psychically connected to the world-mind consciousness and could resource the collected wisdom of other guild members. Now transported to this new land, the silence in his head was almost maddening as he was cut off from the world-mind, but yet no less wise.
Several years later after finding a small corner in this new world that he could claim as his own, Ondros had almost forgotten of the world-mind and sometimes even felt it almost blinded him to other aspects of life. About 50 years ago while tending to his nut tree garden, Ondros met a travelling cleric named Gultrak. Gultrak travelled the lands to serve his goddess Lurue and the natural world around him. Ondros invited him to stay with him at his cabin and they spent several late nights around the campfire and under the stars talking philosophy, religion and nature. They became good friends and Gultrak had always made sure to stop in to visit at least once a year in his travels. Ondros was always amazed at Gultrak’s stories of helping the natural world with his goddess Lurue and was pleased whenever the weather would cause Gultrak to stay a few days more.
When Gultrak became quite old and developed a nasty cough, he stayed with Ondros for several months. One dark night while rain pelted the roof above, Gultrak’s condition had gotten worse. Coughing up blood, he looked up into Ondros’ eyes with a blood speckled smile and said “I will be joining Lurue soon” and finished with more coughs and blood. Gultrak pulled a piece of amber from under his cloak attached to a necklace and handed it to Ondros. “You have been a good friend Ondros and your heart is pure to receive this gift. Take this symbol of Lurue to her temple in Baldur’s Gate. Learn her ways and powers and serve her well. She will guide you through this life Ondros. Trust her in all things.” The next morning with tears in his eyes, Ondros buried his best friend at the far end of his nut tree garden next to a large maple tree. The following week, Ondros travelled the long journey to the temple and trained under the acolytes there as a cleric of Lurue.
For the past 40 years, Ondros has come to find communion with his new goddess Lurue sometimes called "The Unicorn Queen" or "The Queen of the Talking Beasts". Every time he walks through his nut tree garden towards the large maple tree at the far end, he fondly remembers his good friend that set him on this path. A path that has given him purpose and joy to be one with the natural world.
Ondros sat under the stars one night at his campfire and reminisced about his friend and the long path that brought him here. It was not an easy path for the strange looking outsider to a world that had never seen a loxodon. But his easy demeanour and natural abilities as a cleric turned the questioning stares and snickering pointing to handshakes and friendships soon enough. After his studies, Ondros retreated back to his cabin at the edge of the woods just south of the shadow of Mount Hotenow. Picking up a stick, he stirred the fire causing sparks to spiral up into the crisp night air. Raising his gaze to the north, he could barely make out the outline of Mount Hotenow rising far in the distance above the forest. A dark black monolith against a dark blue horizon speckled with a million stars. A dread crept over him as he looked at the mountain. He thought of the recent stories from his neighbouring farmers claiming of goblin raiding parties and other foul beasts coming nearer to their small homesteads. After putting out the fire, Ondros walked into his cabin to his worktable and looked proudly at his latest small stone statue creations sitting next to his carving tools. They have made great gifts for his small list of friends and have even supported his simple lifestyle from the occasional buyer. Ondros’ eyes move up to his mighty maul hanging over the stone fireplace. He gently pulls the silver weapon of punishment and atonement down. He feels its weight in his hands, eyes its many battles scars,…and ponders what the future will hold.
Kriv (Dragonborn Paladin)
Zzif (Goblin Gloomstalker Ranger)
Ziff lives with a feral streak, always with the mindset kill or be killed. This is how he was raised amongst his goblin peoples, and how he continues to live as an adventurer. New experiences allow him to be brave and show his strength to all around him. He craves new prey to test his strength and resolve. The outside world is widely unknown to him, as he’s spent most of his life inside his home at the sunless citadel, and occasionally raiding the nearby surroundings. Ziff is something of an outcast to his people, as he believes in the worship and rebirth of Asharalon, the great dragon. He believes that it is in the best interest of his people to aid in her rebirth so that they may worship her and she can lead them into a new prosperity. There are those who also believed in this, but mostly in secret, most notably his mentor Grell the Shaman. Since Zzif has made his views public to his people he has been looked upon strangely by most, and this tension has precluded him from positions of authority despite his strength comparative too them.