Race:Human/undead...-ish?

Gender: male

Age: 23

Class: Necromancer/rouge

Stats:

Strength: 14
Dexterity: 20
Constitution: 12
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 10
Charisma:9

Physical Description: Black, short, and messy hair with a close cut and thin beard that goes along the edge of his jaw. He has a stern face with hazel eyes that hold a piercing gaze. Its not that he's always angry, it just seems to be his neutral face. He has an average stature and a lean athletic build. His whole right arm is ragged looking and closer to a red-black shade than the rest of him and reached the base of his neck, his right pectoral, his right shoulder-blade, and down a few ribs. This gruesome sight would at first seem like a terrible wound, but upon further more professional inspection, would reveal an evil taint, which seemed to be spreading further across his chest.


Armor/Attire: He wears a large black hood that covers most of his face when worn save for his eyes. When the hood is down, it distorts the silhouette of his shoulders and hangs loosely about his head, nearly covering the whole neck and almost reaching the lower end of his jaw. He has a cotton shirt he wears under a layered leather vest, both of which are sleeveless for ease of movement. His whole right arm is covered in bandages up past the shoulder, covering up the dark arm entirely. A dark red sash is wrapped around his waist with the loose ends hanging at his left hip. It tops off a dark gray loose fitting pants that have a few random patches here and there for having to fix various imperfections in the fabric. The pants ended tucked into some leg wraps that ran from his upper calf, just below the knees, to the ankles, in which it run under the foot to keep secure. As for his feet, he wears some cloth shoes the leave the large toe separate and leather pads on the bottom for grip and protection.


Equipment

• A rope dart, normally rolled up and hanging from the front left of his sash.
• A large karambit, sheathed at his back, just above his butt pack (explained below), drawn right handed.
• A sword breaker, sheathed at his back as well, bundled with his karambit and drawn left handed. The bundle is held onto the back of the vest. If you don't know what a sword-breaker is, this is a good example:
  warning, the picture is a bit bigger than I thought. [+]

  well...for pc maybe.
• He has a heavy canvas cloth harness that runs between his shirt and vest. It holds up what could be considered a leather belt with a built in butt pack with three pouches. The middle contains a roll of bandages, a small surgical blade, a bottle of alcohol (sometimes in drink form if no pure alcohol is available), and a tourniquet. His left smaller pouch holds various vials of crushed herbs or liquids for medicinal uses and antidotes. Finally the right pouch holds a notepad, charcoal pencil, a tiny small vial of ink, and a pen. This pack sits just above his sash, though it tends to hang over it in the back.
• The notepad contains information gathered on Dremmick's travels, mostly of few important details to remember and plenty of info on plants along with their various uses and properties such as what is poisonous and what can be used medically.

Mental Description/Personality: Mostly quiet and reserved until he gets to know somebody well enough to trust them, Dremmick is not very sociable. He is very cold in his decisions due to his kill or be killed lifestyle as of recent years, however he is not normally sadistic unless they really deserve it. Once he gets to know someone and trust them however, he does start to open up and talk more, even make a few facial expressions and moods other than contempt! While mildly pessimistic, he tries to think most things through as much as possible before doing them, though understands how the best laid plans can still go to waste. He does have a 'Doc' complex to where if there was any way he thought he could be able to save one of his comrades, he will not stop to save them till they were safe or he could say he died trying. Also, if he does talk to people, he is a proponent of dry or dark humor, and as a bit of mental recoil to bad puns. Not the person to ask for opinions.

Goals: To find out why he was revived and to find his family's killers

Background/History:


Notes:
-Dremmick really doesn't care for people that much. Unless he finds a group to fight for and for once actually align himself with, he could care less who he kills. After all, neither sides of the spectrum were really his friends in past experiences.
-He detests liches. He sees them as overcome with greed and their own power of life and death and believes that they should be eliminated given the opportunity. After all, they aren't the most hospitable people and he blames their abuse of power with the cause of necromancy to become as hated s it has, which in his mind, is the cause of his family's death in the first place.
-Loves breadsticks, and carries a small supply wherever he goes. they are thin, buttery, lightly salted, and crunchy. where he gets them from at random times, nobody knows.

All I need is a bit more detailed info on the backstory. What region was she born in, or what region at least did she experience the most? The Silver Marches/Sowrdcoast and the regions within are good choices. Myth Drannor too. Perhaps the Moonsea?
Here is a good list of suggestions (though of course there are many many more. This is just the Swordcoast.
I'll need some general detail as well, like who rescued her (was it the wolves?) and if so, were they doing it under the command of a local Druid or Ranger or perhaps even a Nymph or Dryad to help you out? Where did you learn (properly learn, not hear about) Mielikki before Matolokive rescued her? You probably answered most of these questions already, but I just wanted them to be a bit more laid out is all.

Don't worry though. I know Forgotten Realms seems overwhelming. I'm not looking for a lot of info tbh. Just a general kind of "I was here, then perhaps I traveled into this extremely big (and unspecific) region like the Silver Marches since it was so cold and harsh, and experienced most of my life there, and perhaps stumbled upon a Mielikki/Silvanus shrine in the Moonwood and made some Elf friends for a year or two perhaps (hell, the Wood Elves might not even bother a cute Half Elf and just patrol around while she worshipped) and stuff like that.

Race: Half Wood Elf

Gender: Female

Age: 45 (21)

Class: Shaman

Stats:

Strength: 6
Dexterity: 16
Constitution: 12
Intelligence: 17
Wisdom: 18
Charisma: 8

Physical Description: Standing at roughly 5’6” and 145lbs, nothing about Rin’s build announces reason for intimidation. Gentle locks of shadowy emerald hair flow wildly, framing her face, falling just above the waistline. Her eyes are aqua green, almost as if the forest and ocean came together in a dance; the battle between the two causing the color of them to change oft, always leaning one way or the other without either truly gaining ground. Ritual tattoos signifying her place as a priestess (and connecting her to the divines) contrast significantly against the soft ivory skin. Her movements are generally tender and calculated, even in stressful situations. Nonetheless, when in battle, she does not allow it to limit her. On her left shoulder there is a faint silvery scar from when she was rescued by a wolf.

Armor/Attire: Serving under the Lady of the Forest, Mielikki, Alfrin can usually be found in earthy tones of varying greens, browns, and whites. Her breastplate is made of simple leather with tree branching patterns burned delicately into the material. Leather boots work their way up to just above the shin. The gauntlets, one the other hand, are Elven, a faded gold in color, and are a token of her past. Various pouches line her belt and thighs, and a quiver of elk is strapped to her back. Her cloak is varying shades of browns and tans with flecks of cream throughout, much like a fawn’s coat. Around her neck is a small silver pendent, a tree whose branches and roots spread broad, eventually forming a circle around it; this symbol gives the blessing of Guidance and Protection.

Equipment

• Handcrafted longbow with elk quiver: holds 15 arrows
• Wolf’s Fangs: medical needles generally used for acupuncture; in battle can be used fatally if on artery or for paralysis if nerve
• Skinning knife: sheath is located at her back on her belt
• Shadowsong: 9” dagger, outer left thigh
• Alchemy Bag filled with various medicinal herbs
• Prayer book, as well as guide in connecting with both the divines and the fallen
• Various other provisions such as a waterskin, money, potions, dried rations, medical supplies, ect.

Mental Description/Personality:
Alfirineth is a kind soul with a gentle heart. Following the faith instilled in her, the young elf chooses to believe good can be found even in the darkest of hearts. Nonetheless, the girl is no fool, nor is ignorant to the cruelty in the world. It is more so the idea anyone can change for the better; it only takes a slight change in the winds to alter a course. Preferring to look at situations from the outside in, she is calculating and decisive in finalizing her thoughts. Once she has come to a conclusion little to nothing will change her mind. Intuitive to the feelings of others, Rin is rather selfless, putting them above her own. For those close to her, she would lay down her life no questions asked.

Rin is an independent, humble woman who often keeps her feet off the ground and her head in the clouds. Adventurous at heart, she finds a path less taken to be the one with the most interesting possibilities. Dedicated to nature, she respects even the tiniest creature, mentally processing all outcomes before actually taking a life. Being small, Rin doesn’t bother with heavy armor as she’d prefer to deal with her threats with her archery, from a distance. When forced into hand to hand combat she has learned how to use her opponent's strength against them through agility and training. Though generally soft natured, Rin is abrupt and to the point when irritated or angered. She isn't one for 'beating around the bush', and would rather say what she thinks and move on.

Due to the tattoos covering her body, Rin has the ability to connect with deities other than her own, even those of a darker nature. Unfortunately, doing so takes a massive toll on her body, usually cause her to be bedridden for a day or two minimum. Aside from this, her magic revolves around healing, strengthening the spirit, and summoning animals in nature to her aid (her spirit transformation is that of a large arctic wolf, this creature choice is specific to being a follower of Mielikki, Lady of the forest, along with aspects of Silvanus).

When it comes down to it Alfirineth highly values three traits: loyalty, honesty, and perseverance. Loyalty isn't blind or completely steadfast, but she feels safer knowing that her friends have her back and are willing to stand up for her. Honesty is crucial to any relationship in her mind, though she knows how to keep quiet when necessary. Perseverance is a quality which can tip the balance of scales, making the difference between a dream being forgotten or coming true.

Goals: She wishes to understand the world as seen from those raised on the outside, gaining a new perspective on the soul: what hardens it, breaks it, builds it back up again. Rin hopes to apply this knowledge into her faith, bringing the cycle of the universe together with a new perspective.

Background/History:
Born in a small village along the Heartblood River at the southern end of the High Forest (north of the Grey Vale), Alfirineth was raised to respect the nature around her, learning to make herself flexible to the flow rather trying to manipulate it to fit her own needs. Uncle being a master carpenter and stoneworker, the young girl excelled in the crafting of bows and arrows as well as in leather tanning. Her technique was strengthened in her knowledge of the hunt, much of her free time spent practicing with archery and trapping. It wasn’t long before she knew the area well, learning the art of craftiness from many close calls.

Many of the young elf’s earliest memories revolved around the general distrust in magic, as well as a distancing from divine thoughts in general. To her people, calling on these deities was nothing more than a wasted breath. Even then, the young girl couldn’t fully understand how magic, which appeared to be so beautiful, could be so inherently wicked. Her curiosity in these affairs was often cause of scrutiny, especially considering her father being a human. Though she never knew the man, let alone his ideologies on either case, Rin couldn’t help but feel a pull in her spirit that there was something more, something she should be looking for.

The validity of the feelings came with a confirmation one cool autumn day when Rin was approximately 13 years of age. Following a deer, the girl stumbled upon what appeared to be a necromancer summoning the undead. Naturally curious about magic in general, the elf climbed a nearby tree, making her way through the branches until she was in earshot. Enthralled by the scene, she ignored the subtle cracking sound of the branch. Within moments the safety of the boughs was replaced with the hard ground, the sound of her own body crunching against fallen leaves and the cracking of wood. The rest of the memory appeared as nothing but flashes: undead corpses surrounding her, flying through the air before landing against a rocky cliffside, her heart bursting out of her chest as a warm liquid flowed down her face. Then it came, a voice. Suddenly, she felt teeth in her shoulder, as her body was being pulled away from the fight. A druid appeared in her peripheral as wolves came out of the woods closing in on the necromancer. Alfirineth blacked out shortly afterwards, one thought on her mind, “It’s too soon in the season for their fur to be white…why?” Darkness came quickly.

Rin awakened already bandage, tucked in on her bed with her mother giving her a most peculiar look. Physically, she came out with the mild head trauma and a scar on her shoulder from the wolf that saved her. Still she felt unsettled, like a stone was sinking into the bottom of her stomach. That look…why did it make her feel this way? Soon it wasn’t just her mother, but the whole village. The voice from that day…it lingered. Years came and went, that longing for answers from her childhood refused to wane, gnawing at her constantly to the point even her dreams were filled with pictures she didn’t understand, faces that her eyes never rested upon. There was no staying in her homeland, that was a fact she’d grown up knowing but never truly acknowledged. Now, as she packed up what little she could carry on her person, Rin could only have faith in destiny. She needed to know what happened that day, what it all meant, what all those eyes knew but refused to say.

Her adventures began southward spreading from the High Moor east to the Hill of Lost Souls and back north again. Rumors of similar stories kept her following what seemed to be a path of dead ends. Completing small quest for locals or selling her woodwork kept her fed, allowing for enough connections to find the next lead.

Solace came at last in the form of an elderly elf seeking protection on her way through the Forgotten Forest. Offering a pretty price, Rin was unable to turn the woman down, though surprised the lady would choose someone so small over the orks also offering their assistance. “Call it a hunch. I’d expect a wood elf to give me a little luck on the venture. And you my dear, let’s just say I believe you have the gods on your side,” the woman laughed leaving Rin as confused as ever, but hopeful this was what she’d been waiting for. Curious to where they were traveling, Alfirineth learned it was a pilgrimage to the shrine of Silvanus, the Forest Father. Throughout the next week she learned the history of the god, of his “daughters” Mielikki and Eldath. It was early in the morning when they finally arrived. The instant Rin looked upon the shrine a vision came over her explaining everything she’d never known. The druid that rescued her that day was called upon by Silvanus himself. The mark on her shoulder, his blessing. He directed her to become a Shaman of Mielikki, therefore a direct worshipper of him as well. “Travel to Comanthor. Find your destiny there.”

For the first time in her life Rin felt at peace. Those looks she’d gotten all those years were for a blessing that only she seemed unable to see. Now her eyes were opened and her path sure.

The journey to Comanthor took her to many places, bringing a newfound wisdom to this world, for joy and for sorrow. Once abroad, she settled in Myth Drannor starting her quest for knowledge all over again. She learned from the locals of a shaman of Silvanus and Mielikki named Matolokive, known for his extensive knowledge in alchemy and healing. Through fate she became his disciple for the next 20 odd years, expanding her own abilities as a future priestess of Mielikki. Rin became an expert in herbal knowledge, medicinal techniques, and the fine line between healing a life and snuffing it out. Much of her time was spent expanding her wisdom through reading of books and scrolls. After completing her history of the divines she was granted with the ritual tattoos to help hone her abilities in seeking guidance. Physically, she was taught to push her body to the limits in the name of understanding her place as part of the universe. Rin was taught hand to hand combat, how to use her small frame to her advantage. Forced to train for hours on end, it all set the foundation for when she would once again head out on her own, claiming her place a lighthouse for the weary.