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"Here to save your ass, not kiss it"
Race: Troll
Gender: Male
Class: Bear Shaman/ Combat Medic
Description:
Bear stands 289.6cm tall and weighs about 443kg.
Background:
Born from Scottish descent parent, Mathúin grew up caring for all life. This of course came from his mother.
In his teens Mathúin ended up joining the military thinking he could change the world. But he was wrong, instead it changed him.
After awhile Mathúin ended up joining the Lone Star as a combat medic. He saved many a member on many occasions.
On his last mission, Mathúin and his team were deep in the shit, surrounded by the enemy as they were betrayed by the very company that sent them in for the target.
Mathúin has lost much of his memory of the event but hunts for any info that might tell him what happened then and what happened to his team.
Born from Scottish descent parent, Mathúin grew up caring for all life. This of course came from his mother.
In his teens Mathúin ended up joining the military thinking he could change the world. But he was wrong, instead it changed him.
After awhile Mathúin ended up joining the Lone Star as a combat medic. He saved many a member on many occasions.
On his last mission, Mathúin and his team were deep in the shit, surrounded by the enemy as they were betrayed by the very company that sent them in for the target.
Mathúin has lost much of his memory of the event but hunts for any info that might tell him what happened then and what happened to his team.
Race: Human (Crow Crow Fruit)
Gender: Male
Class: Weapons Master
Race: British Colonial
Gender: Male
Class/Level: Sailor & Brawler/Novice
Description:
STR: d8, AGI: d6, SMA: d4, VIG: d6 SPI: d6
Reason: 1, Status: 5, Pace: 6, Pace: d6, Toughness: 6, Parry: 7, Luck: 3
Languages:English, Cantonese
Skills: Fight d10, Shoot d6, Swim d4, Climb d4, Repair d4, Lockpick d4, Boats d4, Gunnery d4, Mechanics d4, Navigation d4, Throw d4
Edges: Brawny, Martial Arts, Pugilist
Hindrances: Vengeful (Minor), Overconfident, Quirk (favours Underdog)
Cash: £22 1 sh
Weapons:
Fists/ d10 / melee only/ 1d6+1d8
Knife/d10/melee, throwable/1d4+1d8
.455 Webley/d6/12-24-48/2d6+1 AP1 d.a./6 shots/wt 4
2 x Throw Knives/d4+1/3-6-12/d8+d4/wt 1 ea.
Spencer Shotgun/d6/10-20-40/1-3d6/5 shots/wt 9
Armor:
Heavy Sailors Coat (wt:3; +1 armor torso, limbs)
Gear:
196 x .455 rounds (5/50)
100 x shotgun shells (5/50)
Pipe & Matches (0.5 ea.)
Spyglass (1)
Pocket Watch (0.5)
Navigators Tools (wt:5; not normally carried. +1 to rolls)
Lockpick Tools (wt:5; not normally carried. +1 to rolls)
Reason: 1, Status: 5, Pace: 6, Pace: d6, Toughness: 6, Parry: 7, Luck: 3
Languages:English, Cantonese
Skills: Fight d10, Shoot d6, Swim d4, Climb d4, Repair d4, Lockpick d4, Boats d4, Gunnery d4, Mechanics d4, Navigation d4, Throw d4
Edges: Brawny, Martial Arts, Pugilist
Hindrances: Vengeful (Minor), Overconfident, Quirk (favours Underdog)
Cash: £22 1 sh
Weapons:
Fists/ d10 / melee only/ 1d6+1d8
Knife/d10/melee, throwable/1d4+1d8
.455 Webley/d6/12-24-48/2d6+1 AP1 d.a./6 shots/wt 4
2 x Throw Knives/d4+1/3-6-12/d8+d4/wt 1 ea.
Spencer Shotgun/d6/10-20-40/1-3d6/5 shots/wt 9
Armor:
Heavy Sailors Coat (wt:3; +1 armor torso, limbs)
Gear:
196 x .455 rounds (5/50)
100 x shotgun shells (5/50)
Pipe & Matches (0.5 ea.)
Spyglass (1)
Pocket Watch (0.5)
Navigators Tools (wt:5; not normally carried. +1 to rolls)
Lockpick Tools (wt:5; not normally carried. +1 to rolls)
Background:
Black Jack doesn't remember his parents much, only eking a living on the streets of Hong Kong. He took service on a merchantman as soon as he could, and has sailed the China Seas ever since.
A couple of years ago he helped take an archaeological expedition up the Yangtze, and it was here he had his encounter with the supernatural. Jack's prowess in defending himself, and the few surviving expedition survivors led to an offer which has brought him finally to the mother country he has never seen.
A couple of years ago he helped take an archaeological expedition up the Yangtze, and it was here he had his encounter with the supernatural. Jack's prowess in defending himself, and the few surviving expedition survivors led to an offer which has brought him finally to the mother country he has never seen.
"Scared of the dark? Why? There are monsters in the daytime too. "
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Role: Other
Class/Level: Commoner/1
Description:
A young boy, about 7-8. Scrawny for his age, with old eyes and roughshod clothing. He is invariably dragging around at least one book.
Background:
My name is Elijah Mordenkeinin, but most people call me "Book" on account of I know how to read.Â
Im almost eight years old. Â I live with my Grandfather right now. I used to live with my mother and father. My father is a very powerful wizard. I used to help him do experiments. Mostly I would read from very old books while he watched what happened from a special room. My Grandfather doesn't seem to like him much. He really liked him before I was born. Apparently grandfather always wanted to be a wizard too.Â
Mother liked him too at first. But after, she was mostly scared. Thats why we ran away. Mother isn't alive any more. Something very bad happened to her after we ran away. Grandfather thinks that it was father. But he's wrong. I know who it was, but I'm not allowed to tell.Â
My grandfather says I have a very active imagination. Â He thinks that all the people I can see are only in my head. But i don't think he is right.Â
Oh well, mr Teeth says that I'm almost ready. And that people will be able to see him really soon.Â
I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not
Im almost eight years old. Â I live with my Grandfather right now. I used to live with my mother and father. My father is a very powerful wizard. I used to help him do experiments. Mostly I would read from very old books while he watched what happened from a special room. My Grandfather doesn't seem to like him much. He really liked him before I was born. Apparently grandfather always wanted to be a wizard too.Â
Mother liked him too at first. But after, she was mostly scared. Thats why we ran away. Mother isn't alive any more. Something very bad happened to her after we ran away. Grandfather thinks that it was father. But he's wrong. I know who it was, but I'm not allowed to tell.Â
My grandfather says I have a very active imagination. Â He thinks that all the people I can see are only in my head. But i don't think he is right.Â
Oh well, mr Teeth says that I'm almost ready. And that people will be able to see him really soon.Â
I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not
"Dame" Rhoka Sandstalker
(Retired)
"Die Biting the Throat"
Race: Gnoll
Gender: Female
Role: Striker
Class/Level: Invulnerable Rager Barbarian/8
Description:
Rof-Churok is a 7'3" monstrous male gnoll sporting a broad-shouldered physique, supreme musculature and dark-spotted sandy fur. He wears a piecemeal collection of furs, hide and steel that have roughly the same statistics as medium armor. He wears a black-painted jackal's skull with a red-painted third eye on a leather cord around his neck, which is flanked by a pair of lion's teeth.
Background:
At first, Rof-Churok would be hard to tell from any other gnoll raider, aside from his enormous size for a male gnoll and his long, slick dark hair. This is mostly because he relishes in the life of his people - he dresses in the motley furs and skins in which most wild gnolls would dress and acts as most of them would act. He is a raider - the caravans and homesteads he's ransacked are high in number and gruesome in appearance when he is done with them. He is a slaver - he has killed a good number of his captives for insubordination, and subjected the rest to more cruel punishments for letting it happen... They quickly changed their ways. He's cruel, easily angered, short of temper, quick to deal with competition, xenophobic and mistrusting, while having that strange pragmatic attitude that make most races deem gnolls as craven. It is not that he nor the rest of his kind are cowardly, however, so much as they have no concept of honor. Nobly dead is still dead, and Rof was raised with the mindset that one's strength is measured in their survival, how well they could kill, and how many cubs they sired or birthed. Life on the plains is unforgiving, and the constant fighting against rival clans, human settlements, and less lethal competition within the clan bring forth a soul that is unforgiving, practical, and quick to deal with any and all problems that arise.
Such is the life into which Rof was born. Neither the youngest nor the oldest of his mother's current fifteen living children, he was all the same the largest in his litter, being even larger than the two sisters born with him, much to the clan's surprise. It may well have been that Rof was the largest male born to the insular gnoll clan deep within the plains between the Rivers Pashman and Ladan of what the furless ones called Qadira. Upon reaching adulthood, Rof drank his Bloodwater in one great swallow - it being a sign of strength and fortitude to so quickly and deeply consume the foul beverage. The scars he inflicted upon his belly to show his dedication to his goddess were deep, and from them he drew great endurance. Rof's mother is the matriarch of his clan, as well as its highest ranking priestess of Lamashtu, patron deity of gnolls, revered as their mother goddess... the Great Mother. An unmentioned falling out with a Qadiran noble led her to have an even more xenophobic stance on other races, and she passed the teachings of that seething hatred to her children, many of the females, Rof's sisters, intending to one day take her place as leader of the clan.
None questioned why so much as Rof, though he did so respectfully. He wanted to see firsthand why she hated the furless ones so. How did they operate? He worries deep down that the furless ones aren't as inferior as she's taught him. He fears they may actually be superior to gnolls in some ways, and is paranoid his race will be eventually wiped out as a result. The one time he mentioned this fear to his mother, she bit him, missing his carotid artery just barely enough not to kill him, and he still bears the scar to this day. This was intentional. Ever since, he has kept this fear to himself.
The day he left was the one day he ever saw his mother unsure of himself. She knew him to be an adventurous sort; having taken many runs through the furthest reaches of his clan's territory, and even venturing past into the lands of those clans nearby... having nearly gotten killed several times in the process. When he explained he was doing so to learn from the furless ones... to see what gave them the capacity to overtake the wilds and build their great structures, she furrowed her brow and warned him. "Learn, watch, listen, do not accept. Remember that you learn to teach gnolls how best to take advantage of furless trappings. Swords do not work when handles break, and catapults work poorly without their levers." He nodded truthfully - that would be his mission, and he would be damned to fail in it.
As with all gnolls, Rof loves the thrill of the hunt and the feel of fresh red meat torn in his claws and teeth, and unashamedly delights in the taste of the flesh of the furless ones. His xenophobic upbringing leads him to assume all trust outside the clan will be betrayed, and loathes trusting newcomers outside his own kind. It is his natural curiosity that sometimes betrays this loathing, however. Within his species, he has a habit of thinking with his dick, and female gnolls have an easy time convincing him to follow through on seeming attempts to mate him. His role after all is to sire cubs - it is natural. Outside of his species, his curious desire to see how the others operate drives him. So long as everyone pulls their own weight, his own desire to see how the furless ones act naturally generally means he won't harm his "adopted" clanmates unless they do something irrevocably stupid or damaging to him, in which case he will inflict his worst. That said, his curiosity has led him to more benign relationships as well. One such furless, an academic and nobleman who'd come to research his kind, piqued Rof's curiosity enough that they became genuine friends, and it was through this friendship that Rof learned the traces of Taldane that would later help him in his quest for knowledge of the other races.
In the end, he would rather cut out his own heart and die eating it than betray his own kind or his faith in the Great Mother. HIs long-term goals are to prove his strength and cunning in battle and the hunt, and to have lots of cubs in Lamashtu's name. He fears sterility and the loss of his reproductive ability because of this goal - his inability to perform these things would break him as an individual. That said, one deep dark secret is that he wishes he'd been born female. Gnolls being matriarchal, he believes that others of his kind would respect him more, and that his authority would be accepted, and his thoughts better-considered. In the end, however, he acknowledges this to be a fallacy - a cub's delusion - and simply does his best to be the best benefit to his kind that he can be.
Rof generally understands that everyone has a role to play, but most respects and appreciates strength and a connection to the natural world. Being devoutly faithful to Lamashtu, his goddess mother, it's easy for him to see the beauty and perfection in mutations and bestial, monstrous forms. He fears being alone, being cast away from his clan and dying an exile. He fears his race not living up to Lamashtu's expectations, and views his quest with the furless ones as his way of getting a competitive edge on the other races. In the constant struggle for competition of land, food and resouces, he intends to make his journey a survey of how his kind can best weather the rising storm that is the spread of humanity through gnoll lands. That... and kill as much as possible, raid and steal as much as time allows, and bring stories of personal triumph over notable furless to impress the females of his clan. In addition, if a greater threat arises - one that truly would bring question to Lamashtu's authority over gnolls or the rise of her greatest enemies, notably Pazuzu or Rovagug - he would dutifully seek out and destroy any such blasphemies, and wreck them until nothing of their presence remained.
Such is the life into which Rof was born. Neither the youngest nor the oldest of his mother's current fifteen living children, he was all the same the largest in his litter, being even larger than the two sisters born with him, much to the clan's surprise. It may well have been that Rof was the largest male born to the insular gnoll clan deep within the plains between the Rivers Pashman and Ladan of what the furless ones called Qadira. Upon reaching adulthood, Rof drank his Bloodwater in one great swallow - it being a sign of strength and fortitude to so quickly and deeply consume the foul beverage. The scars he inflicted upon his belly to show his dedication to his goddess were deep, and from them he drew great endurance. Rof's mother is the matriarch of his clan, as well as its highest ranking priestess of Lamashtu, patron deity of gnolls, revered as their mother goddess... the Great Mother. An unmentioned falling out with a Qadiran noble led her to have an even more xenophobic stance on other races, and she passed the teachings of that seething hatred to her children, many of the females, Rof's sisters, intending to one day take her place as leader of the clan.
None questioned why so much as Rof, though he did so respectfully. He wanted to see firsthand why she hated the furless ones so. How did they operate? He worries deep down that the furless ones aren't as inferior as she's taught him. He fears they may actually be superior to gnolls in some ways, and is paranoid his race will be eventually wiped out as a result. The one time he mentioned this fear to his mother, she bit him, missing his carotid artery just barely enough not to kill him, and he still bears the scar to this day. This was intentional. Ever since, he has kept this fear to himself.
The day he left was the one day he ever saw his mother unsure of himself. She knew him to be an adventurous sort; having taken many runs through the furthest reaches of his clan's territory, and even venturing past into the lands of those clans nearby... having nearly gotten killed several times in the process. When he explained he was doing so to learn from the furless ones... to see what gave them the capacity to overtake the wilds and build their great structures, she furrowed her brow and warned him. "Learn, watch, listen, do not accept. Remember that you learn to teach gnolls how best to take advantage of furless trappings. Swords do not work when handles break, and catapults work poorly without their levers." He nodded truthfully - that would be his mission, and he would be damned to fail in it.
As with all gnolls, Rof loves the thrill of the hunt and the feel of fresh red meat torn in his claws and teeth, and unashamedly delights in the taste of the flesh of the furless ones. His xenophobic upbringing leads him to assume all trust outside the clan will be betrayed, and loathes trusting newcomers outside his own kind. It is his natural curiosity that sometimes betrays this loathing, however. Within his species, he has a habit of thinking with his dick, and female gnolls have an easy time convincing him to follow through on seeming attempts to mate him. His role after all is to sire cubs - it is natural. Outside of his species, his curious desire to see how the others operate drives him. So long as everyone pulls their own weight, his own desire to see how the furless ones act naturally generally means he won't harm his "adopted" clanmates unless they do something irrevocably stupid or damaging to him, in which case he will inflict his worst. That said, his curiosity has led him to more benign relationships as well. One such furless, an academic and nobleman who'd come to research his kind, piqued Rof's curiosity enough that they became genuine friends, and it was through this friendship that Rof learned the traces of Taldane that would later help him in his quest for knowledge of the other races.
In the end, he would rather cut out his own heart and die eating it than betray his own kind or his faith in the Great Mother. HIs long-term goals are to prove his strength and cunning in battle and the hunt, and to have lots of cubs in Lamashtu's name. He fears sterility and the loss of his reproductive ability because of this goal - his inability to perform these things would break him as an individual. That said, one deep dark secret is that he wishes he'd been born female. Gnolls being matriarchal, he believes that others of his kind would respect him more, and that his authority would be accepted, and his thoughts better-considered. In the end, however, he acknowledges this to be a fallacy - a cub's delusion - and simply does his best to be the best benefit to his kind that he can be.
Rof generally understands that everyone has a role to play, but most respects and appreciates strength and a connection to the natural world. Being devoutly faithful to Lamashtu, his goddess mother, it's easy for him to see the beauty and perfection in mutations and bestial, monstrous forms. He fears being alone, being cast away from his clan and dying an exile. He fears his race not living up to Lamashtu's expectations, and views his quest with the furless ones as his way of getting a competitive edge on the other races. In the constant struggle for competition of land, food and resouces, he intends to make his journey a survey of how his kind can best weather the rising storm that is the spread of humanity through gnoll lands. That... and kill as much as possible, raid and steal as much as time allows, and bring stories of personal triumph over notable furless to impress the females of his clan. In addition, if a greater threat arises - one that truly would bring question to Lamashtu's authority over gnolls or the rise of her greatest enemies, notably Pazuzu or Rovagug - he would dutifully seek out and destroy any such blasphemies, and wreck them until nothing of their presence remained.
Details:
Class: Barbarian
Archetype: Invulnerable Rager
Preferred Weapon: Falchion
Secondary Weapons: Longbow, Spear
Sex: Female
Race: Gnoll
Age: 12
Eyes: Red
Hair: Long black hair in the front tapering off into a shorter mane along the back of his neck and shoulders
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Deity: Lamashtu
Reason for adventuring: To learn what life outside of gnoll society is like, as well as encourage gnolls to reduce infighting to protect themselves against greater threats. Getting to hunt things along the way will be fun though.
Archetype: Invulnerable Rager
Preferred Weapon: Falchion
Secondary Weapons: Longbow, Spear
Sex: Female
Race: Gnoll
Age: 12
Eyes: Red
Hair: Long black hair in the front tapering off into a shorter mane along the back of his neck and shoulders
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Deity: Lamashtu
Reason for adventuring: To learn what life outside of gnoll society is like, as well as encourage gnolls to reduce infighting to protect themselves against greater threats. Getting to hunt things along the way will be fun though.
"Dealer" Bartleby Higgins
(Retired)
Race:
Gender: Male
Description:
When Bartleby was born his mother cried, "My angel as come!"
She was wrong.
She was wrong.
"I trust that my teachings will guide my actions and everything will go well."
Race: Forest Gnome
Gender: Female
Role: Striker
Class/Level: Way of the Open Hand Monk/7
Description:
She is nearly 4 feet tall, with black hair, freckles and green eyes and a deep tan. She likes to laugh, solve problems, and the sound that a good roundhouse makes when crushing an opponent’s ribcage. Diphi wears her hair in a loose braid, with small beads woven occasionally throughout. She wears the traditional robes of her order, including a necklace of large mahogany prayer beads. Her body bears the honorific tattoos indicating her status within the Monastic order.
Background:
In the far east of the northern continent, a long archipelago of islands and reefs were once inhabited by a mercantile, sea-faring wing of the Yuan-Ti empire. These jungle islands are home to invaluable and rare spices and dyes, but the jungles are so dense and labyrinthine that the snake folk had difficulty harvesting those riches on their own, let alone the common Yuan-Ti unwillingness to put themselves at risk when others could be used instead. Yuan-Ti slavers captured several large clans of gnomes and enslaved them; forcing them to collect and harvest the priceless yield of the sweltering jungles.
They would also bring a sizable population of Ogres to the islands, to work as brute labor and dockworkers. Generations and generations would pass in this way and the Yuan-Ti lived comfortably in massive stone palaces and marketplaces, like this: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angkor_Wat#/media/File:Angkor_Wat.jpg
At the time of the Yuan-Ti empire’s collapse, a pact was made between the two slave groups and taking advantage of the Yuan-Ti’s predicament, they conspired. The laborer-orgres used their construction tools as weapons, but the gnomes had never been permitted to own or use anything like weapons. Over the long years of their servitude, they had honed their tiny bodies into weapons of their own to protect themselves against the many dangers of the deep jungles and mangrove swamps.
While the ogres attacked from the northern docks on the primary island of the chain, Ko Lan Fa, the Gnomes exploded from the sewers under the marketplace and the combined might of the pincer attack overwhelmed the arrogant Yuan-Ti, who found themselves cut off from the rest of their empire. In the largest of their palaces, Somdet Phan Wui, they hid a magic stone. It looks like the black heart of of some great beast, flickering with malice; even the dimmest of the ogres could feel its power. As the last of the snakemen trade princes died, the stone shone brightly and then became dark.
Over the generations, the ogres forgot their pact with the gnomes and preyed upon the gnomish community wherever possible. Not cunning enough to navigate the reefs and mists of the jagged archipelago, the ogres were trapped on the islands.
The gnomes would grow to form a monastic community in the largest market district, fortifying and creating a stronghold. They cultivated a strong martial tradition, very like the Order of the Open Hand found elsewhere in the world. They also became powerful, but obscure merchants: the archipelago was the only source of several rare and desirable spices, woods and dyes. The gnomes wished to practice their traditions in secret; and therefore always sold their goods through black market traders or intermediaries like the Salamander. While certainly a monastic order, they were less followers of a specific god than followers of a series Truths, defined by their ancestors and by a sense of duty regarding the Yuan-Ti. The gnomes also universally despise slavery, and encourage their underworld contacts not to traffic in lives, sometimes at the expense of a deal.
The gnomes also loved deeply spicy food, and sharing large communal meals was a favorite activities; huge pots of curries and chilis called ‘hotdishes’ were absolutely iconic of their culture.
The gnomes never exterminated the ogres, though they surely could have eventually, because they provided an unending training ground for them to hone their skills against. Not trusting the ancient and apparent demise of the Yuan-Ti, they remained vigilant against their possible return, regularly sending scouts to the rest of the world to make sure their old oppressor stayed buried.
They would also bring a sizable population of Ogres to the islands, to work as brute labor and dockworkers. Generations and generations would pass in this way and the Yuan-Ti lived comfortably in massive stone palaces and marketplaces, like this: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angkor_Wat#/media/File:Angkor_Wat.jpg
At the time of the Yuan-Ti empire’s collapse, a pact was made between the two slave groups and taking advantage of the Yuan-Ti’s predicament, they conspired. The laborer-orgres used their construction tools as weapons, but the gnomes had never been permitted to own or use anything like weapons. Over the long years of their servitude, they had honed their tiny bodies into weapons of their own to protect themselves against the many dangers of the deep jungles and mangrove swamps.
While the ogres attacked from the northern docks on the primary island of the chain, Ko Lan Fa, the Gnomes exploded from the sewers under the marketplace and the combined might of the pincer attack overwhelmed the arrogant Yuan-Ti, who found themselves cut off from the rest of their empire. In the largest of their palaces, Somdet Phan Wui, they hid a magic stone. It looks like the black heart of of some great beast, flickering with malice; even the dimmest of the ogres could feel its power. As the last of the snakemen trade princes died, the stone shone brightly and then became dark.
Over the generations, the ogres forgot their pact with the gnomes and preyed upon the gnomish community wherever possible. Not cunning enough to navigate the reefs and mists of the jagged archipelago, the ogres were trapped on the islands.
The gnomes would grow to form a monastic community in the largest market district, fortifying and creating a stronghold. They cultivated a strong martial tradition, very like the Order of the Open Hand found elsewhere in the world. They also became powerful, but obscure merchants: the archipelago was the only source of several rare and desirable spices, woods and dyes. The gnomes wished to practice their traditions in secret; and therefore always sold their goods through black market traders or intermediaries like the Salamander. While certainly a monastic order, they were less followers of a specific god than followers of a series Truths, defined by their ancestors and by a sense of duty regarding the Yuan-Ti. The gnomes also universally despise slavery, and encourage their underworld contacts not to traffic in lives, sometimes at the expense of a deal.
The gnomes also loved deeply spicy food, and sharing large communal meals was a favorite activities; huge pots of curries and chilis called ‘hotdishes’ were absolutely iconic of their culture.
The gnomes never exterminated the ogres, though they surely could have eventually, because they provided an unending training ground for them to hone their skills against. Not trusting the ancient and apparent demise of the Yuan-Ti, they remained vigilant against their possible return, regularly sending scouts to the rest of the world to make sure their old oppressor stayed buried.
Details:
Diphi (Die-FEE) was a young adult in her community, just barely 50 years old. She had passed her Initiate, Neophyte and Acolyte levels in her training and had just been declared a candidate for Masterhood. To become a master, a Monk must go to the outside world and demonstrate one of the Sacred Truths of the order. Usually, it was that “size matters not,” but not always. The most rare Truth was: “you shall not suffer the Yuan-Ti to return.”
She was being considered for masterhood, despite her relative youth, because she had recently managed to fight off a troop of Orangutang witch doctors, the Orang Ihmphi, who were attacking one of the gnomish fishing villages.
On the days of her send off, monks returned from several places in the world with whispers of the Yuan-Ti’s return. Then, the stone glowed brightly enough to be seen with one’s eyes shut.
The Grand Master Roondar Daergel charged her with the Final Truth: she could suffer no living Yuan-Ti, though she was not alone in that. Many monks were sent out in different directions throughout the world.
Diphi has never left the archipelago before, thought she’s no stranger to danger and combat. She’s naturally very inquisitive and upbeat, though confident. Secretly, she’s thrilled to experience more of the world than the small archipelago she calls home.
She will miss her sisters Breena and Tana, brother, Orryn, mother Nissa and father Boddyknock, with whom she has close relationships. She will also miss Sensei Sindri, her master and Ellywick her childhood, lifelong best friend.
Before she left, her mother gave her a magic quarterstaff, a load of spice and dye and a letter of introduction to the Salamander. She also carried a personal set of cooking tools, hoping to learn new combinations of flavors to make hotdishes from.
She was being considered for masterhood, despite her relative youth, because she had recently managed to fight off a troop of Orangutang witch doctors, the Orang Ihmphi, who were attacking one of the gnomish fishing villages.
On the days of her send off, monks returned from several places in the world with whispers of the Yuan-Ti’s return. Then, the stone glowed brightly enough to be seen with one’s eyes shut.
The Grand Master Roondar Daergel charged her with the Final Truth: she could suffer no living Yuan-Ti, though she was not alone in that. Many monks were sent out in different directions throughout the world.
Diphi has never left the archipelago before, thought she’s no stranger to danger and combat. She’s naturally very inquisitive and upbeat, though confident. Secretly, she’s thrilled to experience more of the world than the small archipelago she calls home.
She will miss her sisters Breena and Tana, brother, Orryn, mother Nissa and father Boddyknock, with whom she has close relationships. She will also miss Sensei Sindri, her master and Ellywick her childhood, lifelong best friend.
Before she left, her mother gave her a magic quarterstaff, a load of spice and dye and a letter of introduction to the Salamander. She also carried a personal set of cooking tools, hoping to learn new combinations of flavors to make hotdishes from.
