Age: 34

Gender: Male

Race: Tabaxi

Appearance: Tabaxi in the world of Vayrgroedt are shorter than humans, but taller than dwarves. Acciai is somewhere in the average height of his people. He has black fur and yellow eyes with a penchant for long cloaks and leather armor.

Background: Acciai was young when the world changed. Dark things and vicious sorts crawled out of the shadows from regions unknown, hungry for the taste of blood and bone. Acciai’s people were descended from merchant-adventurers set aside in republican havens across the warm southron seas. They were not ready for the forces of darkness. As the world changed, Acciai resorted to thievery and skullduggery much like his father and ultimately came to possess many skills as he fought and stole to survive in the new, anxious world. He had always hoped the dawn would come and drive out the darkness, though that never came to be. It can be said that Acciai’s reputation is mixed for those who care to know as a result, though he has shown himself to be good for some food in his stomach or coin in his pocket. He can fight or steal.

Inventory: The tabaxi hireling wears attire that matches his vocation with a hooded cloak, leather armor, and reinforced cloth. He has a steel shortblade and a tabaxi crossbow with two quivers set aside—one in his pack and one on his back. Beyond this he has the normal traveling equipment for fun or for work. Rations, flint and tinder, sharpening stone, gambler’s dice and cards, a lucky coin, and a hooked rope.

Goals: It is in Acciai’s best interest to find work where he can. The expedition calls for muscle and he is good with a crossbow and a blade. Should he not be later elected to be a town guard he supposes he might take up the trade of some kind of vendor or craftsman.

Other: Acciai has a reputation for being a bit of a gambler and flirt to those who know him.

Age: 68

Gender: Male

Race: Halfling

Background: One of the many heirs of the famed Granny Goodbiscuit, known for her eponymous "Granny's Goodbiscuits" before she went insane, Lawrick has exhausted much of his family's modest fortune funding his many "Get Rich Quick" schemes. Now with his fortune finally squandered and with the victims of his cons hot on his tail, Lawrick joined King Neiryl's expedition to the Ash Glade, with plans to open a new "Granny's Goodbiscuits" and restore his family's fortune. Of course, how Lawrick will do that without any experience in baking is a mystery on its own.

Inventory: On his person, Lawrick wears a thick cloth cloak that doubles as a blanket for cold nights over a set of traveler's apparel. Lawrick also carries a thick traveler's staff that also doubles as a Halfling-sized quarterstaff. Most of Lawrick's most prized possessions are container in his knapsack, a hearty leather satchel that follows the Halfling philosophy of never having too many pockets. Inside his knapsack are a week's worth of Halfling rations, a smoking pipe, smokable herbs, flint & steel, and a mess of papers detailing Granny Goodbiscuits' secret formula... or at least, what Lawrick thinks is her secret formula.

Goals: As stated, Lawrick's newest scheme is to rekindle the family business in this new settlement. Of course, he's never baked in his life, so Lawrick will have to study Granny's strange recipes... He's not quite sure what to make of them, himself, but he's never baked before! Maybe it's just one of Granny's many eccentricities.

Other: I suppose it goes without saying, but Granny's "recipes" definitely aren't for biscuits. What they actually are, I'll leave completely to the mercy of the GM. Maybe they're a plot plot device, a set of notes detailing magic that Halflings were not meant to see, or even as mundane as a cream to remove bunions.

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Age: 22

Gender: Male

Race: Half-Orc

Background: Years ago a woman lived in a village west of the great spires of the King's Pass, a vast range of mountains that can be seen from miles across the land. She was Skjal's mother, and sadly she never asked for him nor did she ever get a choice. A band of Orcish marauders came down from the peaks of King's Pass and pillaged the quiet village, taking women prisoner and killing the men as well as their children and the elderly.

It was too much horror for mothers to watch their daughters get brutally killed with their fathers and grandparents, some couldn't handle it and snapped mentally becoming catatonic. Their purpose were to bear children and be killed when they could no longer bear children, one such child was Skjal.

Growing up in an Orc tribe was hard for a Half-Orc like Skjal and his daily life consisted of constant abuse at the hands of those stronger than him, but he always had hope because of his mother. However she lost her use only years after he was born when he reached the age of manhood, she had loved him even despite her never getting a choice. She used to tell him human legends in secret, about heros and wonderful adventures and a man she called grandfather Jeoffery who was her father and an innkeeper. However one night after Skjal came to hear his mothers tales of adventure and heroism, all he found was her mutilated body.

That was the last straw for the young Half-Orc, after years of witnessing countless atrocities and experiencing many beatings at the hands of his fellow tribesman. What came next was a blur to him, most of what he can remember is that his vision turned red and he felt blinded by rage. He remembered the howl he cried at the top of his lungs and the taste of blood in his mouth, then when his vision cleared he was standing amongst the bloody corpses of his kinsman and holding an axe that was painted red and slippery in his grip.

He slew every last member of the tribe, and standing in their camp surrounded by the dead he fell to his knees and wept for his mother finally. Prior to leaving he built her a funeral pyre, taking the good things that never hurt her and placing them with her body so she would have the things that brought her joy in the afterlife.

He took the bearskin of the chieftain and wore it as a reminder of this day, and even years later he still wears it. He has spent much of his life travelling as a mercenary, killing whatever needed to be killed for coin. But still he often recalls the story's he grew up hearing and the man named Jeoffery the innkeeper.

Inventory:

Goals: Skjal is searching for his grandfather Jeoffery the innkeeper.

Age: 31

Gender: Male

Race: Halfling



Background: Thiago comes from a long line of builders. His family built into the hills of Sauerabfel for decades and learned precisely how to develop things to be safe, solid, and homey. Placing trees in a natural way and at the proper distances that their roots would grow strong to support themselves, the hills, and the earthen homes of his people. Managing water that they might easily water their crops, swim in lakes, and nap beside rivers. Dotting bushes and flowers about to draw in visitors. Lovely.

That would have been his life as well were it not for the fall. Sauerabfel relied on trade and tourism and had never had any issue drawing either. It had been bustling in time of plenty but when the wars came and kingdoms fell it quickly followed. Some families left for the protection of a larger city. Others sold off their goods and fled to try to support family elsewhere. It was as a rock rolling down a hill gathering speed as it goes. Fewer and fewer halflings, fewer travelers, and soon the roads grew too dangerous for even larger traders.

Thiago was one of the last to leave that might actually have a shot at establishing himself elsewhere. If there were anywhere left to establish. He left behind an all but deserted Sauerabfel Hills, populated only by those too old to leave and a few small families hoping to hide out in the smaller more hidden burrows.

He wants to build again. To participate in establishing a new home for himself and perhaps eventually resettle the remaining halflings of Sauerabfel or maybe at some far flung date even return to the hills with a team and bring it back to life.

Inventory:




Goals: Thiago wants to ensure that future generations of his people have a safe place to gather and that their culture is not lost. He believes he would make a fine leader and harbors aspirations to one day return to the Sauerabfel Hills to rebuild it and become mayor of it. He can almost see himself walking through the hills, waving to visitors from lands near and far, garbed in some sort of stately robe. Holding fine feasts, carousing with representatives from lands near and far. It seems so impossibly far off the way the world is now, but he's a halfling and so if there is one thing he has it is hope.

Age: 30

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Background: A clumsy child, Lilian's mother could not afford to treat her daughter's frequent sickness and injury. When Lilian's father never returned from the frontline defending their little kingdom, she and her mother sought refuge in their capital's church. The kingdom's center of worship, it was a large cathedral that already housed many without home or family. Growing up around so many stories, both of the book and from displaced travelers, Lilian decided she'd like to stay with the church even into adulthood. It was a warm place where one could learn a little about a lot of things. She became well versed in scripture and took position as a nun when she was old enough. From then she became an assistant to preachers, and was on track to become a church authority herself.

When the violence reached the capital, none stood a chance. Lilian was, initially, one of those staying behind to heal soldiers and pray for the city. However, seeing the carnage firsthand and knowing that it had already swept up and swallowed most of the continent, Lilian decided that she'd better run instead. Save herself, as her magic was doing little to save others and the gods doing even less.

She didn't know if her clergy members ever looked for her or just assumed she'd been lost during the city's ransacking. Still, she traveled in shame for weeks until her coin purse ran out. Then, broke and alone, she had little use for shame. Catching wind of a recolonization effort, Lilian made her way there to join in. Despite her weak fortitude she did wield magic, especially of the healing variety, that made her useful if nothing else did.

Inventory: A damaged holy artifact, in this case an amulet (still worn under her clothes). A sturdy walking stick. A large waterskin and rucksack. A precious few, random scrolls. Blank parchment and a couple of quills. An empty ink bottle. Heavy layers of thick, protective clothing. A few edible things, such as dried fruit and nuts.

Goals: Build a new life, basically. Learn a skill and provide for herself and her community. Maybe start a school in the future, or at least a book club.

Other: Lilian has a slight limp in her right leg.