[Characters] Wayfinder Foundation Records

[asura8]

Here is held a record of each Wayfinder who takes to the field! Yours shall be among them!

[Xian]

Name: Zanserath (Kalashtar) "Zan" Concept: Zan is a shadow watcher atavist and acts a sleeper agent/operative of sorts that travels through Khorvaire under the guise of an adventurer. Zan's ulterior purpose is to gather intelligence and report on Inspired/quori activity and, when able, interdict and disrupt them, but outwardly be adventuring for the gains and to fight generally for the cause of good. As a kalashtar atavist, he will have a roguish skills to maintain the low profile that is indicative of most kalashtar (actually even more so), but will have a martial skill with a splash of psionics that will encompass the abilities he gains through atavism. Zan will do what he can to mask that he is a kalashtar to all non-kalashtar and even to most other kalashtar that he feels would not have a need to know, instead acting and playing any number of roles dependent on the guise that he has adopted at the time. Class: Cryptic (Distorter Archetype), this class represents the knowledge and skills as Shadow Watch member with distorter archetype to reflect the shape shifting and perception warping hashalaq Quori of the Serath lineage. The aegis is the shell of Serath/hashalaq Quori and shifts as needed to meet Zan's intent. Race: Kalashtar Homeland: Zan was born in Sharn, but as a Shadow Watcher he travels in search of signs or rumors of Inspired or Quori-led incursions or plots throughout all of the lands of Khorvaire. While, Sharn would be the closest thing to a home for him, he stays away for personal reasons to mask his pain and second so that the true actions of his brother and his followers are not discovered by his telepathic kinsmen.   Background Background: Zanserath was the younger of two brothers and direct descendants of Soserath, the kalashtar who originally discovered and imparted the knowledge of the atavist process to their people. His brother, Sharserath, and he were accomplished atavists and they began to explore and discover novel abilities through the atavist process. They became members of the Shadow Watch together. Zan was assigned to the same Shadow Watch cell led by Sharserath in Sharn when the Last Wars were ongoing. It was during this turbulent time, Sharserath was seriously injured while thwarting an Inspired-led assassination and though he would survive, Sharserath would be irrevocably changed by the experience. He became more brutal in his methods. Sharserath began to advocate and encouraging the others in the cell to adopt the methods and ruthlessness of the Dreaming Dark, ultimately convincing the others that this was the way to take the fight to their eternal enemies, to fight fire with fire. Zan watched his brother and his followers, his friends, turn from the Path of Light and had begun to tolerate and then disregard completely innocent casualties and collateral damage in their quest to the defeat the Dreaming Dark. They had become no different from the Inspired and the quori servants of the Dreaming Dark. Determined to stop them after failing to turn them from their dark path, Zan engineered the deaths of his once noble teammates and culminated with the death of his brother at his own hands. However, knowing what this would do to the atavist movement and in a final honor to his brother and former comrades, Zan used his ability to shape patterns to manipulate the scene to make it appear that they had died in a attack by quori thought stealers, an attack that he was the sole survivor. After his recovery, Zan volunteered to go into deep cover as a solo operative in self-imposed exile where he has hopes that the truth matter will never be discovered. Perhaps in the mean time, Zan could make amends for the damage and crimes committed by his brother and former teammates and to atone for his hand in their deaths. Parent Quori Backdrop The Serath Quori were among the few hashalaq or dreamstealer Quori among the sixty seven rebel Quori. As a loremaster, Serath was among the Quori that devised the method to escape Dal Quor through the possession or more accurately co-habitation with host from the Material plane. It was this knowledge and resonance that would be the seeds for the discovery of atavism by his descendant, Soserath, and made atavism near second nature to the others of the Serath lineage. In addition to knowledge, the hashalaq propensity for subterfuge and shape shifting is evident in the Serath line and made them natural and ideal fit for the Shadow Watch and through this are able to blend and operate far from kalashtar safe havens and independently. Serath line is naturally suspicious, guileful, and intensely curious and inquisitive to reflect their hashalaq Quori progenitor.   Adventures Past: Zanserath is an active member of the kalashtar Shadow Watch. As a sleeper operative, Zanserath participated in multiple sides in the Last War as an operative disrupting Inspired efforts to insinuate into and subvert the other nations, plots to further the Dreaming Dark's agenda, and on occasion seek out and "destroy" the rare quori incursion. Having fought on multiple sides of the conflicts has given Zanserath a wealth of first hand combat/war experience as well as an appreciation for the goals and motives of the various stakeholders, which has contribute to his neutral outlook towards the warring nations with the exception of Inspired controlled nations and areas. During the conflicts his brother, Sharserath, and the rest of his Shadow Watch cell turned from the Path of Light and Zanserath planned, hunted, and assassinated his former comrades, to include his brother before they could any more damage and then covered the whole thing up. After this incident, Zan chose to operate solo in self-imposed exile, posing as an adventurer while continuing to collect intelligence on potential Inspired activities and interdicting and disrupting any activities he could. It was through his adventuring that he encountered Lord Boroman ir'Dayne. Zan was impressed with and took a liking to the gregarious and inquisitive halfling and accompanied him on one of his expeditions in depths of X'endrik to recover the rare jade dragon shard. It was during this perilous expedition that Boroman, the perceptive and inquisitive halfling that he was, learned of Zan's true nature, when he revealed himself in an encounter with an Inspired patrol that had also been sent to recover the jade Dragon Shard. It was obvious that the Dragon Shard was everything that the halfling had said it was. After escaping the Inspired patrol with their lives and the Dragon Shard, Boroman out of respect or whatever motive kept Zan's secret from the other members of the expedition that had survived and promised to safeguard the jade Dragon Shard and keep it out of the wrong hands. So when the call went out to adventurers on behalf of the Wayfinder Foundation, Zan found himself inclined to answer, though under a different guise. Based on his experience on the jade Dragon Shard expedition, Zan thought being at the intersection of explorers and adventurers he could find items of power and artifacts that was best kept from Inspired hands and in the foundation. Also the Foundation was a cross section of the world and the intersection of information that often would reveal Inspired plots that he could direct intervene in or report to the kalashtar Shadow Watch in Sharn.s   Sponsor 1 (not really): Zanserath could have potentially leverage his previous association Boroman, but he will not as it would present a potential vulnerability to his cover, even though he trust that the halfling will not reveal it directly. Additionally, Zan would not purposefully seek out that level of attention and chooses to remain anonymous, both out of respect for the founder and self-preservation. Sponsor 2: Inara - Changeling - She is a changeling "business woman" that deals primarily in diversions and all manners of pleasure for the members of the Wayfinder Foundation (taverns and the like, mind you ) and a registered Companion. Inara also has through her business, an informal "intelligence" network that thrives secrets and information. Inara befriended Zan in his current guise after he had extracted her from a "business" transaction that went bad, but their relationship or pseudo-attraction may arise from the fact that they both "know" that the other is hiding secrets, but neither willing to reveal any of them to other... or able to find out through conventional means. Zan does not know Inara is a changeling and conversely Inara does not know that Zan is kalashtar and each of their skills are on par in terms of masking that fact... so the game is afoot. Still it remains just that a game between them, a reason to associate for more than business... for now. Inara is usually Zan's lead for information or hooks into expeditions, in return for a cut of the earnings.   Anything Else You Want Personality:As a member of the kalashtar Shadow Watch, Zan has the same outlook on the Path of Light and that he has to be on guard at all times. However, his outward persona that he usually adopts is more gregarious and outgoing with even an occasional burst of humor here and there. Recently, this has come to become more and more a part of his personality after operating in the field for so long.

[GeoAvanti]

Kazimir   Name: "Kazimir" <Actual name unpronounceable by non-Gnolls> Concept: What is the Measure of a Monster? Class: Ronin Samurai Race: Gnoll Homeland: Droaam   In comparison to most civilized folk, Kazimir has experienced a life far more wild and hectic than they will ever see-- barring perhaps those few who witnessed the greatest tragedies of the Last War. Kazimir was engaged in his first raid when the distant magic scoured an entire country from the face of Khorvaire. Not quite an adult at the time when the world changed around him, it seemed no different to him on the following day. Born within the Znir Pact, Kazimir knew the world for only a few short years before it changed-- or so he is occasionally told. Even the gnolls old enough to remember noticed little different; they now had greater forces and more capable leaders, but the nature of their lives did not change. At least not to their perceptions, but such is the nature of gnolls to be focused upon the immediacy of the present, not the differences to the past. Kazimir was raised in Droaam, having been born somewhere between Graywall and Stonejaw Keep, and most of his early life was spent traveling between the two cities. Kazimir was merely four years old when Cyre ceased to exist, though he was never a stranger to violence. Whether in his first raids against abandoned Breland holdings, the bloody pits of Graywall's Arena, or the dust of the dry plain, Kazimir understands physical violence. Born to fight, not just to hunt, Kazimir was granted something unique to his generation: training. Prior to the Znir Pact, gnolls learned only by experience; they had to survive raids against rival clans and nations to grow in strength. However, the stability brought by the Znir Pact has led to a change in the order of things. Kazmir's people are now a standing army, not a roving force of raiders. So some choose to teach and others choose to learn. Kazimir learned well, taking his talents and impulses to Graywall's arena. From there, he first attracted the attention of House Deneith. House Deneith has made use of monstrous mercenaries in the past. Cail d'Deneith was the first to make use of not-then-Droaam's goblin mercenaries nearly a century ago. However, House Tharashk has taken every effort to monopolize the market for the most ferocious of Droaam's denizens. Seeking any ingress into this valuable market, Deneith has taken other considerations in mind. Certainly, the savage, monstrous mercenaries provided by Tharashk are singularly capable, but they are every bit the monsters they are feared as. So Deneith has come upon a different idea: to turn these savage monsters into disciplined soldiers. Tharashk is selective about their clientele for good reason. The savagery and ferocity of their mercenaries is a worthy reputation. However, for all of their potential, they are unchained sound and fury, ill-suited to duties requiring even a modicum of tact or discretion. House Deneith wishes to change that. They desire to craft such "monsters" into disciplined and civilized soldiers, not an unguided rabble. So it is that, without alerting House Tharashk to their ploys, House Deneith made a backroom-deal with the Daughters of Sora Kell-- not for mercenaries, but for recruits. The Daughters would not be without their final laughs, however. Included in the terms for their deal, Deneith would have to train any of their would-be soldiers in Graywall Outpost, a nearby fortification that Deneith clings to with a stubborn passion. Deneith chafed at the notion, but eventually acquiesced, seeing the potential long-term gain to out-weigh any immediate insult. Kazimir proved himself in the arena time and time again, and not always through victory. He rarely used the same tricks twice, and he never allowed himself to fall into the same traps. His personal instruction was crude, but his natural talent and cunning made him stand out against stronger, more brutish fighters. He was young, moldable, and exactly what Deneith was looking for. He and other inhabitants of the monstrous country were quickly poached away by House Deneith before House Tharashk even had a notion that a plot was afoot. Of course, when they did eventually find out, Kazimir would again rise to the notice of House Deneith.   Kazimir spent months training as a Deneith soldier, though he and his monstrous comrades proved resilient to most traditional training methods. Deneith was forced to replace training officers almost weekly, and the whole prospect seemed doomed to failure until the introduction of Artemy d'Deneith. Although human by birth, Artemy could be a brute to rival any ogre of Droaam, and, through a liberal application of violence, he managed to instill in his recruits equal parts fear and respect; they were ready to be properly taught. The first major hurdle had been cleared. The trainees spent three months enduring the most grueling training regime that Artemy could devise. Most civilized men would have been broken after the first week, yet these recruits endured every task, trick, and trap that Artemy could devise. They already knew how to fight; Artemy instilled the discipline to fight as a unit, and the whole routinely suffered for the mistakes of an individual. However, his training would soon be put to the test, as Lord Khudran d'Torrn of House Tharashk, head of Tharashk's mercenary interests in Droaam, learned from a House Medani informant of House Deneith's venture. Khudran's vengenace was in motion within the hour. Attacking Graywall Outpost would have been suicidal, so the Tharashk forces set an ambush, waiting for Deneith's newest forces to venture forth from the fortifications. When Artemy led the unit out for training, Tharashk's own breed of monstrous mercenaries struck. The battle became a whirlwind of bloody violence. Within, Artemy and Kazimir stood at its center. Kazimir mimicked every strike and every command issued by the old veteran, growling orders, issuing threats, and ruthlessly slaying anything that drew too close. House Deneith triumphed, but Tharashkh had succeeded, in part. Although Deneith's monstrous forces had managed a very unexpected victory, they had still suffered heavy casualties-- they had too few left to organize into meaningful fighting units. House Deneith was prepared to cut their losses despite the victory, but Artemy petitioned for a final chance-- and he planned to use Kazimir for his demonstration. Artemy had proven that these "monsters" could be trained, and that they, like any man or elf, could only be improved with such training. However, he had also shown that it requires very powerful, very singular individuals to bind together entire units, a task which few are actually capable of. All the same, they can be taught etiquette and manners as easily as anything else. Artemy challenged his House to a take a step that Tharashk would never consider: integration. "Monsters" like Kazimir, even at the pinnacle of order and discipline, will never be seen as anything else while they stand apart from the "civilized" races, Artemy argued. Integrating the surviving recruits into existing Deneith units would allow them to be seen standing side-by-side with men, which would achieve far more in the perception of them than by making them into their own unit. They were exceptionally capable fighters to have survived both House Thatashk and Artemy, and Artemy had seen to it that they were more than capable of fighting in formation; they were in all ways proper soldiers. Besides, he argued, what would House Tharashk think if they saw ogres and gnolls and goblins filling out the ranks of Deneith's standing armies? Sponsor: Artemy d'Deneith (Cavalier). A Dragon-Marked scion of House Deneith, Artemy is a close friend and capable subordinate of Baron Breven d'Deneith. Artemy is singularly capable in the arts of combat and leadership, but notoriously vulgar and crude in behavior. He fought in many battles of the Last War and distinguished himself as a leader and swordsman of quality. After the Treaty of Thronehold ended most of the open conflict between the nations, Artemy turned to training Deneith's standing forces; he is a talented instructor, though often prone to disregarding established doctrine in favor of his own whims. His vulgar behavior is sufficient enough to see that he is rarely brought into the presence of the easily offended, unless offense is the intent of the visit. Artemy is Kazimir's former instructor and superior, and Kazimir strongly reminds Artemy of a "fluffier, pointer-toothed version of myself as a young man". While Artemy is (thankfully) not directly responsible for teaching Kazimir and the others how to behave socially, he has taken it upon himself to instruct them in the finer points of seduction when dealing with those of noble station. Mostly for his own amusement. The Wayfinder Foundation seems an odd mix for someone like Artemy, but the Wayfinders often find themselves in need of guards and mercenaries to safeguard their resources abroad. Artemy's ham-fisted volunteering of Kazimir did ruffle some feathers in the ranks, but Artemy is confident that Kazimir has the ability and training to make a good showing of both himself and House Deneith. Besides, there are few among the Wayfinders who would rather have any but Deneith's forces protecting them, even if Kazimir himself is not the... expected vision of the mercenary house. Other: Edicts 1. To loyally serve House Deneith, enacting all issued edicts and safeguarding all assets. The needs of the House are of prime importance. 2. Loyalty to the group is tantamount; bonds of fellowship are inviolate, nullified only should harm be directed against House Deneith. 3. Compensation must be received for all services rendered, whether by money, favors, or other payment. Music - Enter Shikari, The Last Garrison

[MundayKnight]

Thrak the Green Concept: A druid trying to keep the balance within himself and the world. Class: Druid Race: Minotaur Homeland: Originally Droam, now wanders the outer wastes of the Mournland in an attempt to heal the land as well as he can. Background: Born in Droam to a tribe enslaved by Naga Thrak was cursed and blessed from his birth. Thrak was small as a baby, not much larger than a newborn Orc. While growing he seemed to do so more slowly than his kin, his only real area of note was how quickly and proportionately large his horns grew. Stories began to be told of old chieftain king's who were regal of horn and smaller of stature and when the whispers reached the ears of the Naga Priestesses the order to kill the runt went out. Thrak's tribe secreted him away, giving him to the first people that they found. The people happened to be a small grove of elven druids in the forests outside of Droam and they took the young Minotaur teen into their care without question or comment. The first few years were rather simple and incredibly pleasant. The druids found the young Minotaur to be receptive to the magics of the world and the languages of the animals. Unlike his kin he relished the primal power of magic and his new found freedom brought him a peace that few of his kin could ever hope to achieve. After a decade passed tragedy struck in the form of The Great War. The druids of the grove were called to battle and even the apprentices were required to fight. War removed the inner peace Thrak had achieved, it removed his joy and replaced it with fury, removed his compassion and replaced it with cruelty, and it removed his hope and replaced it with bitterness. The battles were messy, Thrak led multiple charges while rallying soldiers with his mighty bellows and his figure, a titan on the field with enormous horns, standing head and shoulders above all but the orcs despite his small size for his race. His ax glowed with an inner light as he hewed man and beast, his mighty archelon companion acting as an impenetrable and powerful wall that tore apart anyone foolish enough to get within reach. Six months of battle, six months of blood and pain, six months of death, and Thrak only felt greater rage. It was not until the end of the sixth month that the war became a sorrowful act for the mighty youth. Death of a brother. The battle was a slow slog, his troops had taken more land than they had given but it was an uphill battle, a hill now churned with blood and liquid fear. Another boulder rocked the ground nearby and the screams of halflings and humans echoed in the open air. The Orcs who formed the majority of the druidic shock-troops howled with joy and a bellow erupted from Thrak. The enemy quivered, the thought of dying brought fear to them and joy to his allies and as such the victor was already known. As roots ripped the ground apart around them the enemies finally broke but it was too late, the druids and their beasts charged and tore the rooted men to pieces. The battle turned quickly and Thrak and his men finally crested the hill and the sight before them was a nightmare manifest. A row of leveled balista fired as they saw the druidic strike force and the great bolts struck out with terrifying speed. A bolt caught between Thrak's horns and tore his neck backwards, slamming his head backwards and pinning him firmly to the ground. The greatest pain came from within, he felt his bond to Beor snap and with it his mind shattered... The Minotaur that had taken a bolt between the horns stood up, tearing the bolt that held him from the ground and grabbing it with his right hand and stared at the ballista teams. The first to begin reloading found a bolt punching through their entire rig. Vines with razor sharp thorns tore through the ground and ripped apart man and machine all around the enormous beast. The Minotaur charged and let forth a blood curdling roar as it's horns skewered two men as they fled and his ax took a man apart at the waist. The ax went tumbling through the air and split a man's head like a melon and rooted firmly in his chest. A sword was torn from it's sheath gutted two men in quick succession before getting stuck in a spine. A spear cut the air with a savage grace and created red smiles on a dozen throats before flying through the air to pin a man through his hamstring. The frothing Minotaur walked slowly to the pinned man and when he got close he crushed the man's skull with one massive hand. As the blood soaked Minotaur looked across the battlefield he saw no more foes, nothing more to kill, and he collapsed. For a day he slept among the dead... After the battle Thrak forsook war. He deserted and became a wandering healer and helper, he put up barns and cured fevers, he improved crops and tended gardens, in all honesty he lived for the first time since the war started. It was after the end of The Great War that he found his next purpose, healing the Mournlands. Two days of traveling brought Thrak his most peculiar and now most beloved companion, a sapling treant by the name of Guardian. A new friend. Thrak traveled the edges of the Mournlands for only a couple of days before he came across the first of many peculiar sights, he saw a wolflike creature savagely attacking a tree that seemed to want no interaction with the angry beast. Thrak approached the situation with some trepidation but seeing a creature of the wild and what appeared to be a moving tree he knew that his duty could not abide turning his back to the situation at hand. He tried to reason with the wolf-thing but it quickly turned upon him and attacked. The young Minotaur tried to simply keep the beast at bay but it seemed hellbent on striking him and only then did he notice something odd, the creature had some form of worm crawling within it's mouth. He was unsure what the thing was but knew that if it was infected with something it was likely a threat to more than just himself and so he decided that fighting the thing was the only option he had available to him. Before Thrak could even land the first blow the wolf-thing was hit from the side by a savage blow from a limb of the tree creature. It seemed that while the creature was patient with whatever decided to strike it there was precious little patience for the creature attacking others. Together Thrak and the young treant quickly dispatched the wolf-thing and the worms crawling around inside it's mouth died in a matter of seconds. Thrak thanked the tree in the languages of nature and of fey before he continued his trip through the Mournlands. After a few minutes it became clear that the young treant was following him and so the two continued in companionable silence for many days. Twice more Thrak was attacked by the wolf-things and twice more the young treant came to his aid. A month after the two had met Thrak did the only thing he could think to do with the protective sapling, he performed the druidic ritual of binding taught to him by the elves and he found himself immersed in the connection between the two. For the first hour his senses were overwhelmed by the information flooding through the bond but as the time grew longer and the freshness of the ritual wore off he found that the spirit of the sapling was much the same as the spirit of Beor, there were subtle differences but the two both had a love of protecting others and worried little about their own lives. The two returned to traveling and it was now with the companionable silence of two who had no need to speak with one another for their every thought was known by the other. It was nearly a year after the binding that the two finally left the Mournlands, now stronger than when they entered but still needing to become stronger still if they truly wanted to deal with the heart of the problem in the blasted and ruined landscape and so Thrak did the only thing he could think to do, he returned to the grove that had once nurtured him and taught him the ways of the druid. The trip took little more than a month and when the two arrived Thrak was overjoyed to find that the Archdruid had returned but his joy quickly soured when he found out that Archdruid Idrial was the only one to have survived the Great War. The return was a tearful one but as Thrak explained what he had been doing, and also explained what he needed to do to finish the job he had started, Idrial quickly wrote him up a letter, one to be taken to a group known as the Wayfinders. Idrial explained that the Wayfinders would give Thrak the training and power he needed to deal with the destruction wrought upon the Mournlands and that wen the time came Idrial himself would help the young druid to cure the land of the blight that had befallen it. Anything Else You Want:Music that I am listening to while writing this.

Thrak

Guardian

[GrimDarkOtter]

Name: Lady Theyda ir'Wynarn
Concept: Heir to a noble and savage line.....of pirates.
Race: Human (Lhazaar)
Class: Fighter

 

 

Appearance Theyda ir'Wynarn would conventionally be considered a beauty in many courts, but in the Lhazar principalities her tall, shapely figure and pale blonde hair are covered by armor and helmet. Her radiant smile hides as a predator's grin behind a steel shield and fair hands calloused by hours of sword practice. Still, her mail is well kept, and her noble raiment scarred by salt spray, just as expected of Lhazarene captain.

Personality The Wynarn line of Regalport does its part to rise above the common savagery of the Lhazarene, hoping to inject its people with some sense of nobility and fair trade. But in their heart, the Lhazar are still a piratical folk, and it shows in Theyda. Though she professes the noble aims of her royal cousin and has the manners of a noblewoman, in battle she is a shrieking harpy who flies at the enemy with great excitement. This dichotomy is seen at other times, her perfect etiquette giving way to a blunt savagery when her honor is insulted. As much as she might try to be a royal, Theyda has a heart like a roiling storm.

Background Lady Theyda ir'Wynarn is the daughter of Gorath ir'Wynarn, brother to Leanora ir'Wynarn, goodwife and cousin to Malora ir'Wynarn, mother of Ryger ir'Wynarn, Prince of Regalport and arguably the ruler of the Lhazaar Principalities. His influence and massive fleet of ships has garnered him a great deal of power in the island realm, and he has used that power to elevate his own family's status, rewarding those who live up to his ideals of what the Principalities should be. Theyda was raised in this tradition, with the knowledge that someday she too would be called upon to captain a ship and fight her cousins skirmishes. Though the Last War's greatest battles occurred on land, the seas saw no shortage of death and conflict. Theyda took to this fate with with passion and determination. Though her sister thought they should emulate the courts of the Five Nations in refinement and delicate upbringing, Theyda much preferred her harsh lessons of combat and sailing the treacherous waters. But lessons only take one so far with the stubborn peoples of the Lhazarene. During the Last War, Theyda was too young to warrant her own ship in the Seadragons, but she was a welcome fighter on many a war-galley. Both as a sword hand in her own right, but also as a witness to the crew's prowess, that her royal cousin might know their deeds. As a favor from her royal cousin after the war, the young woman was brought to Sharn with her weapons, some money, and a letter of introduction to her ostensible hosts, House ir'Hashet, esteemed members of the Brelish Parliament and home to three members in good standing of the Wayfinder Foundation. To become a true Prince of the Isles, and Captain of her ship, the Lady Theyda would require more than battle prowess. It would demand fortune, loyal comrades, and the unshakeable confidence that comes only from experience. The fortunes that can be won in the City of Towers are many and varied, and when Theyda has sufficient money for her own warship, she plans to earn her cousin's esteem by venturing against the hated Cloudreaver Pirates, slavers and raiders that plague Lhazarene and mainlanders alike. She has promised those who follow her lands and loot, but the Cloudreavers are an intimidating foe, and she knows it may be years before her ambitions come to pass. But Lord Narthir ir'Hashet, uncle on her mother's side, proposed that a stint in the Wayfinder's Foundation employ might help her find the necessary knowledge and wealth to truly pursue her dream.

Sponsor Lord Narthir ir'Hashet, patriarch of his noble House and governing whip of the Brelish Parliament was somewhat surprised when his dear older sister sent word by Sivis messenger that her daughter Theyda would be visiting Breland. His Lordship had often been very curious as to why his sister had consented to wed that Lhazaarene fellow, Lady Yrala's Midsummer Ball nonwithstanding. But family was family, and he was happy to host a young lady in more civilized environs than a salt-drenched backwater like Regalport. Of course, rather than the young debutante seeking better prospects for a husband, he found a steel-clad warrior knocking at his door with the edge of a shield and conducting morning blade drills in the garden ballroom. And her talk of raiding and reaving, it was incessant. Lord Narthir feared his children would get a very wrongheaded impression of what it meant to be nobility. Even her stories from the Last War were a grisly assortment of tales, though they made for great entertainment at her Skyway debut. She was a lady, undoubtedly, but also a brawler and quite possibly a drunkard. At least by the standards a lady should be measured. Later on, Lord Narthir would be surprised it took him so long to come upon the answer to his troubles. His father had been a founding member of the Wayfinder Conclave, and he and his brother had both gone on their own explorations to Xen'drik in years past. It was in vogue then, a grand tour of Galifar being quite impossible with the War on. Lord Narthir maintained an emeritus membership, as the Wayfinders kept a better table than many clubs, and far better company in attendance. So with the hope of finding Theyda a useful outlet for her talents, and perhaps earn some of that reaving money she always mentioned, Lord Narthir approached the Conclave to submit her name for consideration.

Adventures Past The westborne wind flew over the gunwales of the Pinefury, bearing with it a sour, sickly stench of death and decay. That only meant one thing to the shieldmaiden standing near the bow. Karrns. Looking over her shoulder to the erstwhile assault detail she commanded, she nodded to the hobgoblin at the front. "Mister Koruuc, stow the alchemist's fire. It will do us no good here." After all, a skeleton had no flesh to burn, and would simply advance into the Pinefury's own construction with the dangerous, blazing substance. This wasn't the first time the Karrnathi had attempted to hold the Ostawar Strait. Raiding parties in the Starkwood and their bribed agents in Tantamar Harbor were some of the few sources they had for precious black onyx, ever since the dwarves closed the Seaward Gate on the Glimmergleam. And Karrnathi galleys were easy enough to spot, lacking the long, clean construction of Lhazaar ships. No, this thing was squat, bound with too much rope and rowed by mindless, fleshless horrors. Of course, tireless rowers were a curse as well as a blessing. The Karrnathi captain just didn't understand the wind. The unholy drumbeat shifted the pace of the oars, and soon the galley was pulling away from the shoreline, hoping to find more room to maneuver away from Pinefury's swift, southerly approach. But as they moved east, the Lhazaar sails caught more and more of the wind, until they tacked no more and plowed straight on. Bracing her legs and gripping hard to the bowsprit, Theyda kept her head low and waited, holding her patience as tightly as her sword. Until with a sickening crunch the bronze-clad ram of the Pinefury drove home. Theyda held her hand out to the others, keeping them in place for three counts as the ships settled together with a groan of wood. Satisfied they were held fast, Theyda shouted "Forward you arse-sniffing dogsons of public slags!" and leapt over the side.

[ColdBones]

Name: Kynon Rockfoot

Concept: A stalwart, teetotaler of a dwarf. An outcast that was useful as a guard but has decided to set off on his own, unsatisfied with making money for others. Not greedy, per se, but certainly uninterested in people making money off his back.

Class: Paladin - Stonelord.

Race: Dwarf

Homeland: Korunda Gate

Background Kynon was born to a family of moderately successful merchants. Being quite young, his older brothers were already quite involved in the business, even when he was young. Instead, he showed an interest and an aptitude for martial pursuits from a young age. His father, seeing the opportunity presented him to House Kundarak and they agreed to train him, if his father signed a contract on his behalf, stating that Kynon would serve in the Iron Gate for a minimum of five years once his training was complete. An act that would sour Kynon's opinion of his father for years to come. Kynon completed his training and arrived at the gate, where he was soon approached by members of the Platinum Fist, a cult within the guards of the Deep Mine that are devoted to Kol Korran. Once admitted to the cult, he began training in the ways of the Stonelord, learning to harness the power of the stone around him. The guards were aware of the war, and did have to fight off the odd raid, but they were not embroiled in the larger conflict. Kynon is relatively ignorant of the goings on for the past five years that he spent in the depths. After his mandatory service, he decided not to sign an additional contract, still angry that his father made this decision for him so long ago. And so he set out to find his riches. A brooding, seldom cheerful dwarf out in the world with no ties, few friends, and family he cared not to see again.

Adventures Past Early in his guarding career he was on a small patrol with another member of the Platinum Fist when they came across a large patrol of goblin cavelings. The guard routinely dealt with small packs such as this, but rarely with only two guard members. However, Kynon and his companion were caught off guard by them and soon surrounded. With his shield and large mace, Kynon was able to dispatch several of the pests while his companion did the same - a feat that the guards would discuss for weeks in the mess hall. A recruit, fighting as well as a seasoned veteran, outnumbered and surrounded? It was almost unbelievable. The only thing that made it believable was the condition they both arrived in. They were both on death's door, only barely making it back to sound the alarm and collapse in a heap. It was after this expedition that he was approached by Talrog, an acolyte of the Platinum Fist, about his thoughts on Kol Korran. Kynon has never been much for religion, but in an effort to not alienate anybody as he didn't know anyone there yet, he humored Talron and agreed to learn. He soon found himself hungry for more information about the god's place in the pantheon, seeing so much that he already agreed with. It wasn't long after that that he began learning the ways of the Stonelord.

Sponsor: Faldar Gemborn, also a member of the Platinum Fist but who has never be Kynon. A skilled rogue an ardent follower of Kol Korran who is strongly motivated by coin and isn't above doing some questionable things to acquire it. A cult master at the mines sent word to Faldar that Kynon was making his way out on his own, and that he had directed Kynon to seek out Faldar as he thought the two were quite similar.

Character Sheet