Category Archives: Character Backgrounds

Character backgrounds/introductions for the Jade Regent campaign.

Character: Olmas

Olmas Lurecia, 32-year-old half-elf Cavalier

Olmas Lurecia studied the ground carefully. There was much to be learned from the fading signs of others, be they friend or foe. It was but one skill that he had learned from Shalelu. He paused to consider his situation and looked around carefully. The signs ended abruptly at this point, even though it was surrounded by soft dirt and leaves. Which could only mean…

He jumped to one side as he looked up to see Shalelu looking down on him with a serious look from her perch in a tree. “You do realize that in the time you stood under me, I could have planted a tree and watch it grow ten feet tall?” she asked rhetorically. Olmas grimaced a little, then smiled and responded, “You would have never survived the encounter.”

Shalelu tried to look serious, but finally broke into a small smile. “You did track me this far before I would have killed you,” she said in Elvish. “Where is your mount?”

Olmas gestured with his chin. “He’s grazing at the edge of the woods. I was afraid he’d mess up your trail if he were with me.”

Shalelu paused in a crouch, one knee on the ground, and looked up at Olmas. “Your thinking improves with every training session. Are you really so sure your way lies with the horse and lance and not with the forest and fauna?”

Olmas considered. 32 years had passed since his birth in Crying Leaf in 4680. A mere fifteen had passed since he realized how different he was from the other elves. Oh he’d known, of course, from the day he was born that his father was human, but what that really implied had not been apparent until he started becoming a man. While his friends grew long and lithe, he grew more…solid. More broad. Any human would say he was in great shape, but an impolite elf might say he needed to “change up his training”. In almost every other way he was the equal of his elven brethren, but in the one way that mattered to him, visually, he was obviously different.

Although everyone treated him outwardly like any other member of the clan, he knew that they knew that he knew he was not. So it was that at the age of 20, and against his mother’s wishes (“I’m an adult, Mother”) he’d struck out on a sojourn of self-discovery. The Elders also tried to dissuade him, but in the end it was less trouble to let him go than to hold him back.

His special sojourn almost led to his death. He was wholly unprepared for life away from the village. It was Shalelu who found him shivering and wet during a spring storm, exposed to the elements, and showed him how to find shelter where there appeared to be only dirt, and find game where there appeared to be none.

She knew of him, of course, as she was an infrequent visitor to Crying Leaf. He got the impression she was an infrequent visitor to nearly everywhere. Yet she considered him clansman, and started to teach him how to survive in the wild. “If you’re insistent on striking out on your own, the least you can do is avoid leaving a rotting corpse. It draws the wrong type of crowd.” He could never tell for sure when she was serious and when she was not. But learn he did.

Once he could at least survive a few nights, Shalelu left, although she returned frequently to add to his training. She would be gone for weeks, and then he would awaken feeling her sword at his throat. Twice he found himself strung up by snares he was sure she was responsible for. He began to sleep more lightly, and found himself looking more closely at shadows and oddly shifted branches and leaves. He listened to the animals – or lack of them, which was just as telling. He became harder to surprise. One time, Shalelu brought Qatana, a young human she was helping to adjust to the world. She was not unattractive, but she was human and every pore of her body warned you to stay away. She was clearly a story that was, by her choice, left untold.

Qatana was reticent and withdrawn when he first met her, but later that year, after several visits, she warmed to the point of only being silent and withdrawn. She listened intently to Shalelu, though, and seemed to pick up new skills quickly. She was younger than Olmas.

In between Shalelu’s visits, he met many people traveling along the road or through the forest. The one he was most impressed with was a caravan employing a cavalier with a handsome mount.

Olmas had a way with animals, as many elves do, and to the soldier’s surprise, charmed the animal easily, but he was most impressed with the way the mount and the rider worked together. He’d left Crying Leaf feeling he was alone, but here was an calling that would provide a non-judgmental partner. He listened intently to some of the soldier’s stories, which affected him far more than the soldier might ever know. It was through the soldier that he first heard of the goblin attack on Sandpoint – a place he was familiar with and which was, as far as knew, another of Shalelu’s “homes”.

After meeting the horseman, he began keeping an eye out for a suitable companion on his occasional trips into Magnimar or Sandpoint. While he wasn’t wealthy, he was certainly old enough to take up some odd jobs outside the city and earn some silver, and just this last year he’d purchased Kasimir. He was intelligent and together they’d reached the point where they could communicate with looks and light touches.

He found it odd that after he’d acquired Kasimir, Qatana’s demeanor changed. The next time she came with Shalelu, she watched intently as he worked with the horse. That evening, they were sharing dinner when she looked sideways at him, focused again on her food and said, “The horse connects with you.” This represented exactly four more words than she’d ever said to him before, and even Shalelu seemed a little surprised.

That was all she’d said that evening, but since then, she’d grown increasingly comfortable speaking to him. He learned something of her history from her and developed some understanding for how she handled herself. She was not silver-tongued—once she indelicately told him he looked ugly and smelled like dead fish—but she seemed, at least, somewhat at ease around him now. When she didn’t come, now he’d ask Shalelu why not.


He was startled back to the present. “Shalelu, I certainly understand the allure of the forest, and I know YOU feel out of place the longer you are away. But I think my destiny lies with Kasimir, and the Order of the Dragon.” Shalelu looked hard at him, and then asked a strange question. “Do you find yourself attached to these lands you’ve known all your life? Or are you a nomad, a roamer? Do you prefer familiarity, or change?”

Startled, Olmas stammered “I—I don’t know.”

“A mount needs more space than a mere backpack does,” she said. “Wouldn’t its rider, too?” Olmas stared at her, still unresponsive, before she filled the silence. “Come with me to Sandpoint, at least—I need to resupply and Kasimir would enjoy a bit of pampering, I think. I know a man who knows a man. We’ll see how serious you are about this new avocation.”


Character: Anavaru

Anavaru Orion, 21-year-old female human Ranger

Anavaru had lived with her parents and brothers in Sandpoint for as long as she could remember. Her family had always been hard-working, but of little means. Her mother was a devout follower of Desna and spent much of her time working in the church. Her father worked long hours at the lumber mill to provide for his family.

When her mother perished in the same fire that claimed Father Tobyn in the Late Unpleasantness, Anavaru and her family were crushed. Anavaru, just entering her teen years, did her best to care for her young brothers while her father was working. The Mvashti family, close friends of her mother, stepped in to help.

Anavaru had always had an affinity with animals and nature. As a child, she taught the family dog numerous tricks to entertain her baby brothers. With the Mvashti’s help raising her brothers, she was able to start pursuing odd jobs to boost the family income. She could often be found in the stables of the Rusty Dragon, caring for travelers’ horses.

Her father knew how much she dreamed of having a horse of her own someday, and he secretly started setting aside money, although he despaired of ever being able to afford one. Shortly before Anavaru’s 16th birthday, he heard a coworker at the mill complaining about the “ugly, stubborn sack of #@$#@” that his cousin had “temporarily” left in his care and never retrieved. He asked how much his coworker wanted for it, and was told he’d receive a small bag of gold if he could take it away that night.

The horse was truly unlike any other horse he had ever seen. However, the additional funds allowed her father to board the horse for a few days in a stable where Anavaru would not discover it by accident, as well as secure a set of light barding and a (to his surprise, by necessity, custom) saddle for it. He presented the horse to Anavaru on her birthday and she was overjoyed. She immediately began training it. As she bonded with it, she discovered that the horse was extremely intelligent, rather than stubborn.

Life went well for Anavaru and her family for a time. She managed to make a good amount of side income by selling rides on her unusual horse to travelers and small children. Her father was promoted to assistant manager at the lumber mill, and with the the Mvashti’s support and friendship, her brothers began to find their own paths in life. One decided to honor his mother’s legacy by devoting his life to the service of Desna, and the other managed to secure a scholarship at the local wizarding school in Magnimar.

Sadly, peace did not last more than a few years in Sandpoint. Anavaru and her horse escaped without harm from the attack on the Swallowtail Festival, but her father was brutally murdered at the lumber mill not long after. Devastated by the loss of her beloved father, Anavaru began to spend more time in the forests outside of Sandpoint with her horse friend. She has found the peace and solitude there to be healing, and the focus on improving her tracking and hunting skills has been a welcome distraction.

Anavaru has started to get the itch to explore further afield, but she still frequently returns to town to check on her brothers. During a recent visit, her cleric brother mentioned that Niska had requested to speak with her urgently. She went to see Niska, and the elder requested that after her passing, Anavaru watch over Koya in her travels as she had watched over her brothers’ journey to adulthood. Anavaru thought it the request rather unusual, but made an honest promise to Niska that she would do her best. Three days later, Niska passed away.

Character: Etayne

Etayne Andosana, 29-year-old half-elf Witch

Etayne is the product of human Emotions and Appetites uncontrolled. Her father is an unknown human who happened upon an elf woman in the woods. He forced himself upon her and brought about Etayne. This Woman was already a mother to a daughter by the name of Shelalu. Etayne’s parents were prepared to get rid of this abomination, but Shelalu was excited to have a sister. They decided that they would keep the child, but cared little for her. It was Shelalu who practically raised Etayne in her young years.

To the rest of the town, Etayne was considered a vile creature. She would be belittled and beaten by others. if it wasn’t for Shelalu, Etayne would never have survived. With all the ill treatment, Etayne felt ugly and worthless. She hated herself and life.

When Shelalu left she wanted to take Etayne with, but Etayne refused to leave, never telling her sister it was because she feared she would only be a burden. Soon after Shelalu left a storm came through that Etayne would never forget. Etayne loved storms. They were one of the few things that actually brought her joy. She loved to dance in the rain and watch the lightning with excitement and wonder. There was something beautiful in the chaos it brought. Something magical. They made her feel free. As she was playing in this particular storm a most unusual thing occurred. A  fox was also out in the rain, and not taking cover from the storm. The fox seem to beckon for her. With curiosity she followed. They arrived at an oddly shaped stone and she heard a voice. It spoke of how pleased it was to find one who loved the wild of the storm and elements as much as she did. The conversed for a while. The voice promised to provide Etayne a way to enjoy the elements more, to have the power of them in some form. It could help her to learn to deal with her “Problems”. Etayne almost refused, but then thought of her sister and being able to help her. She made a pact with this being that night not sure of what she was agreeing to.

Shelalu would come back for intervals telling Etayne tales of adventure. Several times she talked of a young girl she saved from slavery, named Qatana. She treated her like a sister and desired Etayne to come back with her to Sandpoint and meet her thinking they would be great friends. Etayne still not feeling adequate, continued to turn her down. Though Etayne felt a small level of jealousy for this “Sister”, she loved these moments spent with Shelalu, and secret desired to meet Qatana. In the times between however she spent all her time with Ling, the fox. She learned a lot about magic and loved practicing, learning to be strong enough to go with her sister. She also spent a lot of time outside the village studying the plants and minerals with Ling. People already fearing and despising her for her lineage, feared her more as she secluded herself to the forest.

The studying of the plants became very useful when a sickness fell upon the land. Etayne became quite ill. Knowing that no one in the village would care to help her, she began to experiment with what she had learned. After several failed concoctions were contrived she found a cure. She thought of the others in the village who were suffering from this illness and it pleased her. She had a remedy. Other will likely find the cure as well but she had it now. They did not deserve her cure. This “Power” she possessed. Then she thought of her sister and the kindness Shelalu showed to Etayne. She then thought of the young who were not cruel to her and decided that she could at least try to help them as that is what her sister would at least do. Though many turned it down she offered her elixir to though families. Though who accepted found an end to their suffering sooner than those who waited for a cure from reputable healers, which did come about. Since then she would have secret visitors who sot her herbal knowledge.

With these visitors Etayne grew in confidence. She finally decided she was ready to join her sister outside of Sandpoint. When she got to Sandpoint, Shelalu was happy to see her. She set up camp with Shelalu and expected to meet Qatana. It seemed, however, that Qatana had recently left for the Priest’s Call.

Etayne found it hard to go into Sandpoint at first, with so many human men there. Etayne blamed human men for her rough life and desired to make them pay. The only thing that holds her back is her desire to please her sister. This, however, does not stop her from causing a little misfortune, to them in passing. A little bad luck or putrid food and drink never killed anyone…and makes for a good laugh.

In Etayne’s visits to Sandpoint in the few years she spends there she realizes that these people are more excepting of her than her home village and understood why her sister wanted her to come so much. She enjoys going to the Inn and quietly sitting in a corner to listen of tales from travelers. As she continues to visit Sandpoint she becomes more and more excepting of these people, Though, still nervous and skeptical of Old Men.

Etayne Andosana- Half Elf Witch Age 29

Character: Qatana

Qatana Marchand, 21-year-old human Cleric of Groetus

The Marchands were part of the original Varisian settlement present when Sandpoint was founded. Father, mother and son Zaqanda acted as the traders for the tribe, bringing in resources from across the different regions of Varisia. When the founding families arrived in 4665 from Magnimar and the Scarnetti family led the treacherous tack on the original settlement, the Marchands stood firm defending their people. They were one of the first of the Varisians that worked with the new arrivals, and helped to build Sandpoint’s economy.

Zaqanda Marchand took over his parent’s business when their ship was lost at sea, after which he married his long time sweet heart, Qaruni. Some years later, in 4691, Qatana was born.

A small, quiet and inward focused child, Qatana made few friends in her first ten years in Sandpoint. She delighted in exploring the coast or forests, either alone or with a special friend or two.

Her father made frequent trips to cities and town across the region, and occasionally Qaruni and Qatana would join the caravan with him. Qatana especially loved these journeys, where the wide world and all of its possibilities would unfold before her.

In 4699 on a trip to Nybor their caravan was attacked by bandits. Qatana hid beneath their wagon, peering out from between the spokes of the wheel as her father fell, pierced by arrows. Qaruni tried to rally the survivors using shields to fend off the arrows, but she was taken down by a large brute charging in on horse back.

Qatana looked on in horror as the thug jumped from his horse before her mother, having his way with her before slitting her throat.

Meanwhile the other bandits had bound the survivors, and dragged Qatana out from beneath the wagon. They were tied in a line behind the wagon, and made to walk as their captors began began to move out with their loot.

Loot. That is what Qatana was now, and she was treated little differently than the sacks of goods piled atop the wagon… other than she had to walk, while the sacks got a free ride. She was somewhat protected by her age, but the other women were cruelly used, until the thug leader ordered his brigands to stop spoiling the merchandise.

The bandits made little secret about their destination: Kaer Maga.

It took more than a month to reach the city. The bandits were in no hurry, and they shadowed the main roads along the way, waylaying travelers and other caravans, and adding to the parade of misery that trailed behind them.

When they finally arrived the carts were hauled away and the captives were marched to the slave market. Qatana knew what to expect — she had heard the bandits talking about their arrival in Kaer Maga for weeks. The road became narrower as they were led into the more squalid sections of the city. Filth was piled upon either side and most of the people they passed appeared as dirty and down trodden as the captives.

Before a heavy steel grate they paused, while a man in bright silk robes came out and looked them over, checking their hair, teeth, and anywhere else he felt like running his hands.

He flashed a toothy yellow stained smile at the bandit who brought them there, and the two fell to haggling. Coins were exchanged and the bandit left. Yellow teeth whistled and a half orc came out and marched the slaves through the archway into a narrow, stony yard beyond.

“Strip,” He demanded.

The slaves did nothing, and so he smacked the nearest woman hard against the side of her head.


They disrobed and their clothes were taken away. The ropes with which they had been linked together were replaced by manacles, and men on catwalks above dumped buckets of water over them.

After that, they were placed into a small room with no windows and little space. A near-full bucket in a corner provided the only facilities, and by the next morning it was well past over flowing.

At sunrise they were led back through the narrow yard, where another dousing removed much of the slime from their overnight ordeal, and they were led out onto an elevated walkway, much like a stage in a theater, which opened upon a public square.

There Qatana and her fellow victims were joined by others from deeper recesses in the slaver quarters. They were forced to stand, naked, while potential buyers (and lookers on) gaped and jeered at them.

Qatana was purchased that morning, and after shoving a sack like shift over her head, her new owner dragged her away, hands bound by leather chords.

Her new home was an inn not far the the slave district. Her hands were unbound and she was taken out back to a courtyard with a water pump, given a large pile of laundry and a bag of soap flakes and told, “Have this lot cleaned and hung to dry before night fall.”

The inn keeper left, and Qatana looked around. The rooms for the inn were on the upper floors, and were accessible from walkways that led up from rickety stairs near the back door of the inn. Nobody was looking, and there was an archway leading out to the street.

Qatana took off, but did not get far. The inn keeper had been waiting for her around the corner, and caught her by the hair. He bashed her repeatedly against the wall before taking her back to the courtyard and dropping her before the pile of dirty laundry.

She managed to get through the laundry not too long past sunset.

She waited more than a week before her next escape attempt, and while she made it it further, her punishment was more severe. After that her wrists were always bound with the leather chords. By day she was tied to an iron ring in the courtyard wall, where she worked on various tasks, regardless of the weather, and by night she was tied to ring in the floor of the inn’s cellar.

Months passed, and Qatana was worked hard. While her food consisted mostly of left over scraps, or food the inn’s dog would often spurn, there was enough that Qatana’s physical strength increased with each passing week.

But still she could think of no way to escape, nor any place to flee to even if she could get away. The laws of Kaer Maga called for severe punishment for anyone caught aiding an escaped slave, and her owner frequently reminded her that no one would be willing to risk themselves for her.

And then, in the dark hours after waxing moon had set, Qatana heard something working the lock on the cellar door. At first she thought it was one of the drunken guests at the inn, coming down to try out the “younger flesh” the inn keeper often boasted of. Instead, a stealthy figure crept in and looked around. Moments later Shalelu crouched before her and cut her leather chords.

“Quickly now, change into these while I cut your hair,” she whispered.

Soon Qatana looked like a boy, and Shalelu took her by the hand as they walked through the city and out the western gate just as the sun was rising.

By dusk they made camp in the side of a hill with a view to distant Kaer Maga. They had hardly said a word all day, but looking back at the city Qatana asked, “How did you find me?”

“One of the caravan guards that fell was not slain. He was found and nursed back to health by gnome traders. As soon as he was able he returned to Sandpoint and brought us news of the attack, and his belief that some of you had been captured.”

“A group of us set out to find you, but months had passed, and the trail was cold. We heard rumor of a troublesome band of brigands that had harassed caravans along the great southern route, and so we gambled and followed their trail westward. At last their trail led to Kaer Magna, where we were able to locate their leader, who was still living high from his profits.”

“From him we learned that you and others had been sold, but the slavers remained silent. They have the support of the city. This was a week ago, and most of our party returned home then. A few of us remained, walking the back streets and alleyways of the city, hoping against hope to find those of you who had been taken.”

“You were not the first to be rescued, although I am afraid you will be the last. The others have set off for home going different ways, as shall we, to avoid chase and capture.”

Qatana thanked Shalelu for all she had done to save her, and asked, “To what end did you put the bandit leader?”

“Patience, little one. They are many and with friends. We are few, and quite alone. I had to pay for the information he gave. Justice…. or revenge, must wait for another season.”

They made their way slowly to Korvoso, and from there Shalelu was hired on as a guard for a large caravan heading to Magnimar. From Magnimar they quickly traveled along the Lost Coast Road to Sandpoint.

The Marchand Trading Company was still operating, and in the year since her parents’ disappearance the head clerk had taken over daily operation of the firm. He agreed to buy the Marchand warehouse, office and residence, the details of which Shalelu handled.

Qatana’s old friends found her changed. No longer shy and retiring, Qatana was now forceful and often abrupt and rude. Social norms and skills eluded her — even when she bothered to try, which she did less often over time. Qatana also found she had no tolerance for bullies or people who were cruel or caused others to suffer.

Slowly what few friends Qatana had drifted away, except for Kali Nassim, daughter of another merchant family, and fellow outsider (or freak).

Qatana spent most of her time with Shalelu and the two would patrol the wild lands around Sandpoint together. Whenever Shalelu left the area on some other business she arranged for Qatana to board with a family in town, but more often than not Qatana stayed in a small camp she and Shalelu had created just to the south of Sandpoint.

Often when Shalelu was gone Qatana found herself in the chapel, asking questions from Father Tobyn or the acolytes. She enjoyed debating such lofty ideals as the meaning of life, or what it meant to be called to serve. She felt the need to do something more than just exist and survive, which is all she had done since returning to Sandpoint.

She was heart broken when the chapel was burned to the ground in 4702 and Father Tobyn killed. But other equally disturbing events in town made conditions more difficult and dangerous for all of Sandpoint’s citizens, and Shalelu kept Qatana busy and distracted helping out as needed.

Life eventually returned to normal, and construction began on Sandpoint’s new cathedral. A new priest, Father Xanthus, assumed the duties as Sandpoint’s cleric, and with his encouragement Qatana decided to become a cleric herself.

The six deities represented by shrines at the new cathedral were each appealing in their own way, but some darker part of Qatana was pulled toward Pharasma. She left for Magnimar soon after making her decision.

Qatana enjoyed her time at the Church of Pharasma in the Keystone district of Magnimar. For one, the building was small and unimposing, which suited her fine, and for another it was just a few blocks away from the magnificent and tranquil Seerspring Garden.

But in the big city of Magnimar she saw cruelty and suffering every where she turned. In some cases she saw members of various religious groups assisting, but mostly not. Over time she noticed clerics clad in unassuming (some might say tattered) gray robes were often in assistance where suffering was most acute.

Intrigued, she approached a gray cleric, who identified himself as one of the Followers of the Gray Sign. They were clerics of Groetus who believed in the “Sign of the Destroyer” doom. They embraced the inevitable end of all things as a mercy, and in the mean time worked to relieve or end suffering when they encountered it.

Mostly they practised their beliefs alone, but in Magnimar some would gather together in an abandoned chapel to join efforts when the mood hit them, or the stars were right.

Both the compassion and the solitary nature of the religion appealed to Qatana, and something about the perplexing nature of Groetus pulled her in.

Before long she was spending more time with the Followers of the Gray Sign than the Church of Pharasma, until she eventually became an acolyte of Groetus. Much of the knowledge and skills she attained while a student of Pharasma aided her in this transition.

Qatana had been accustomed to wielding a mace (even Magnimar could be a dangerous place for the unarmed), the clerics of Groetus taught her to use a heavy flail. She enjoyed the challenge this new weapon presented, and appreciated the devastation it could wreak when skillfully handled.

She also learned of less benign followers of Groetus: those who used the promise of the end of times as an excuse or justification for their tyrannical behavior. These evil folk believed in the “Mouth of Apocalypse” and were called the Teeth of Oblivion. Fortunately they were not common in or around Magnimar.

Within a few years Qatana felt comfortable with her skills and the divine magics granted by Groetus, and she decided it was time for her to seek her own destiny.

But first she returned to Sandpoint to visit Shalelu and decide from there where she would venture forth.

Character: Ivan

Ivan Milner, 16-year-old human Oracle of Battle

On a caravan trip to Korvosa in 4667 Ivan sr. met Ivan’s grandmother while traveling through the town of Harse. As grandfather tells it they fell instantly in love and she joined him on the caravan down to Korvosa and then over to Magnimar. By the time they reach Magnimar it was obvious that grandmother was not suited for caravan travel. In Magnimar they heard of the farm settlements to the northeast near the village of Sandpoint. On the journey to the farm lands is when Ivan Sr. met his life long friend Yahy. Yahy passed away just last year so these days Grandfather gets a little choked up when regaling his adventures with Yahy. As grandfather tells it he gave up his bow to be with the love of his life.

In 4684 Yahy’s Son Noah marries Ivan’s Daughter Sara and they start there own family. The twins Abby and Ivan were born 4696 and are the youngest of seven children, Ivan was named after his grandfather. On the morning of Ivan’s and Abby’s 10th birthday Ivan was having a hard time controlling the excitement about finally being able to go hunting with grandfather. Ivan Sr. had a tradition of taking the children out on there 10th birthday to teach them how to use the bow and hunting basics. His older siblings kept telling Ivan that it was going to be boring and that Ivan and Abby should humor grandfather. Ivan took to the bow as if he had used one all of his life, Abby was more likely to hurt herself with the bow but as normal she just enjoyed being with grandfather and Ivan. For the next 3 years Ivan spent every free moment practicing with bow and hunting skills learned from his grandfather. Abby mean time planned the crop rotations, designed new barns, and logically mapped where she expected Ivan can find game.  While grandfather, mother, and Abby supported his desire to hunt most of his family believed that he was wasting time.

Finally a teenager Ivan was a proficient hunter making extra money selling game to butcher shops in Sandpoint. Even though he was bringing in meat to the family and helping out on the farm it was not good enough for most of the family. Throughout the spring and summer of 4707 Ivan spent more time helping out on the farm but still he could not do enough in the eyes of his brothers. Abby just laughed at him when he complained about his brothers and slyly suggested that he might have better luck helping out the women. Abby loves the farm while Ivan can’t wait to get out and see the world. Abby always seems to know when Ivan is returning to the farm and he swears sometimes she can read his mind. Abby says that she is the brains and Ivan is the eye candy. When it come to the two of them Abby doesn’t believe in boundaries or modesty, its as if they are almost part of the same person.

Ivan, Abby, Sam and their other friend’s barely escaped the goblin attack during the Swallowtail festival in 4707. This was a celebration and he left the bow at a friend’s house. A group of them had to close up in a house until the Hero’s could drive off the goblins. If Ivan had just brought his bow with him maybe he could also be a hero and get away from farming. Sam and Abby started dating. Ivan quickly realizes that Sam and Abby are perfect for each other.

During the Giant evasion of 4708 Abby and Ivan were on the farm celebrating Sam’s birthday. Everyone on the farms hid from the giant army. The giant army was focused on Sandpoint so they escaped without anyone in the family being hurt. In the distance he could see the light of what he presumed was Sandpoint burning.

In 4710 Sam and Abby are married. By that fall Abby is pregnant with there first child. Even with all of this the bond between Abby and Ivan remains strong, sometimes it just included Sam. Ivan’s relationship with his father was so strained that he moved into Sam and Abby’s spare room. Ivan made a deal with Abby that he would not leave until she had her second child. By early spring Abby and Sam had a little girl that they named Patty. Late summer Abby once again was pregnant.  Life continued on with Ivan spending his free time either hunting or helping Sam and Abby with there farm.

On Ivan’s and Abby’s 16th birthday Ivan’s father announced that Ivan was engaged to the neighbor’s daughter, who happened to only be 11 years old. While she looked like a fully developed woman, she was still just 11 years old. It was at that moment that Ivan, Abby, and Sam realized his days as a farmer where over.

The next morning Ivan awakes to Abby sitting next to him with his packed bag in one hand and her week old son Gavin in the other. Stepping out the door Ivan found his mother waiting to say goodbye. Ivan gave his mother and sister hugs before heading down the dirt road towards the lost coast road. Abby and there mother stood there watching Ivan walk down the road until he was well out of sight. Although Abby always knew Ivan couldn’t stay on the farm she already missed him. Abby and her mother head back into the house where Abby brews a fresh pot of coffee.

At the lost coast road Ivan was jumped by a band of highway robbers. Everything went black and the next thing he remembers is seeing an old woman’s face seemingly talking to her self “Desna be praised he still lives”. At that moment Ivan was sure that he saw butterflies all around the two of them.

After a few minutes Ivan stood up and began to thank the traveling caravan for saving him but suddenly began to feel dizzy and Ivan felt intense itching all over is torso. He dropped his bow and began crazily scratching all over. After several tense moments it just stopped. Very confused Ivan reaches down to pick up his bow and it was gone! One of the guards found the bow off to his left and handed it back to him. At this point Koya asked Ivan to drop his bow to the ground again and this time it ended up 10 feet behind him. Koya immediately check Ivan for more injuries but to her surprise found what looked to be tattoos for what she believed were representatives of all of the known deity holy symbols all across Ivan’s torso.

Koya’s friend Kendric who was visiting from Magnimar was in town to pay respect for the passing of her mother. He had just returned from a trip from some foreign land to the south. Kendric and Koya help Ivan understand his new abilities. A couple of days after the attack Abby, Sam, and Mother show up with the children to make sure he is ok. Ivan explains what is happening to him and shows Abby the tattoos. Abby just tells Ivan that he has always had these gifts and the gods were just tired of waiting for him to figure it out.  Ivan really wanted to know why the gods did this to him but he now has come to understand that the gods and Abby work in mysterious ways. He has resolved himself that he will never know which god or gods gave him this curse/gift or why. Ivan once again said is goodbyes to his family as they head back to the farm.

Over the last few weeks Ivan has been making is way by hunting. On some evenings he heads to the tavern and buys a round of drinks for the caravan guards that helped save his life on the eventful day. They start telling fantastic stories of adventure during the many travels with the caravan. Ivan often ends up buying several rounds as he can’t get enough of the stories. The stories are fueling Ivan’s desires to get out on the road. Koya just tells Ivan that she will talk to Sandru about him joining the caravan when the time is right.

Character: Kali

Kali Nassim, 22-year-old human Wizard/Evangelist of Shelyn

Akmal Nassim was born and raised in Niswan, the capital of the Kingdom of Jalmeray. His family owned a small fleet of merchant vessels and from a very early age he was travelling the Inner Sea, learning the business of trade and developing a desire to see (and a taste for) the world far beyond Casmaron. As an adult, he took a job as a trade manager with the Maalolan Trading Company which manages routes much farther north than his family’s business, reaching up into Avistan. Within a few years he was put in charge of the Varisian accounts, and was spending significant time in Korvosa and Magnimar. It was in the former in 4688 that Akmal met his wife, Denea Borellan, a fiercely outspoken and independent Varisian woman and scholar of Chelaxian descent. They were married within a year and not soon after were pregnant with their first and only child, Kali, who was born in the spring of 4690.

For the first few years, the Nassim family maintained residences in both Korvosa and Niswan, traveling frequently as was necessary for Akmal’s work, and Denea used this opportunity to provide much needed research for a Varisian gazatteer on the Inner Sea. In 4694, however, Kali was taken extremely ill during an overland journey with symptoms closely resembling malaria. In an unfortunate accident the bag of holding carrying the medical supplies and potions was pierced and its contents were lost, and it was several days before she could be taken to a suitable cleric for healing. Though the disease was cured, it was not in time to prevent a lasting toll and her growth would be stunted in the years ahead.

After this scare, Denea convinced her husband that a life of frequent travel without a single place to call home was not the best way to raise their daughter. With Denea’s influence and connections in Korvosa, combined with a modest down payment taken from their own savings, Akmal left the Maalolan Trading Company in 4695 to form Nassim Goods with his wife, with the intent of extending the trade of Casmaron goods further north in Varisia as well as bringing a greater share of them to markets in Magnimar. In 4696 they were ready to own their warehouses rather than lease, but Magnimar real estate was too expensive and they turned to the growing community of Sandpoint up the coast where they settled in the fall. Despite this change there would still be travel in their lives, only less of it.

While Kali’s parents had few issues with life in a smaller city as a mixed couple–Akmal had long developed a tolerance for intolerance, and as a Chelaxian Denea did not care what other people thought–Kali herself did not adjust well. She was shorter and slighter than other children her age and even those one or two years younger, her skin much darker than “normal” despite being light for a Vudrani, her accent noticeable even if mild and she did not participate in many games or physical activities with others. This and her growing social awkwardness made her a frequent target for harassment.

Despite being a little withdrawn and introverted, Kali did make several friends and in particular grew close to Ameiko Kaijitsu. As one of the few obvious foreigners in Sandpoint that was close in age Ameiko was arguably the most understanding of Kali’s situation and certainly the most influential. She was also, from Kali’s perspective, everything that Kali was not: confident, strong, attractive, popular and streetwise. When the childhood harassment turned into bullying and violence in her teenage years, it was Ameiko that taught Kali how to watch out for herself, be aware of her surroundings and even to defend herself using her small size to her advantage.

Akmal and Denea were not blind to Kali’s problems. While the extent and magnitude of the bullying was not known, they were aware it was happening and of course could see she was struggling with the other children. Denea did what she could as a mother, but recognized that Kali was reaching an age where too much parental involvement would make matters worse rather than better. There was also a part of her that believed if Kali sorted this out on her own she would be much stronger for it. She would provide Kali with support, for certain, but she would not solve her daughter’s problems for her. Akmal, for his part, tried to teach her some basic defensive skills with a small khopesh, a traditional weapon in Jalmerav, but she did not have the physical strength to wield it properly. Even with smaller blades, when she could manage them she was still easily overpowered. In the end, she learned to shoot a small crossbow–even a standard bow and arrow proved too much for her–despite the fact that it was far from practical as a weapon of self defense. It was, however, better than nothing and when she turned out to be a good shot it seemed to provide a boost to her confidence. Both parents were also reelieved to see that some of her friends, Ameiko in particular, seemed to watch out for her since they clearly could not do so 24 hours a day.

If they knew everything about her later years they would have been more alarmed. Kali, however, was determined to keep as much of it from her parents as she could. The first time she was really hurt was when one of the Theern twins “taught her a lesson” about her place in the world as a dark-skinned foreigner girl, a lesson which ended with a split lip and a deep cut over her eye when her face was slammed to the ground. Kali was so horrified when the Cathedral priest that healed her insisted on talking to her parents that she falsely confessed to starting the fight by baiting the boy and then shoving him. She was ashamed thrice over: once for being so easily beaten, a second time for being forced to air it publicly and a third for lying to cover it all up. That was the last time she turned to the Cathedral. From that point on she relied on Ameiko’s talent for “finding” potions, or visits to Koya if she was at home. Koya was no fool and would consistently lecture her about the importance of talking to her parents, but she could also be trusted to leave it at that. Over time, and with Ameiko’s help, there was less she had to hide but it felt like an eternity getting there.

Just before Kali’s 12th birthday in 4702, Ameiko came to her one evening looking distraught and clearly very, very angry. She explained that she had just had a fight with her brother (Kali had been in Sandpoint long enough to know this history, and knew just enough from her relationship with Ameiko to separate fact from rumor). She did not say what it was about—close as they were, Ameiko rarely talked about her family—or what had transpired, only that she was “finished with Sandpoint and her family” and was making plans to leave. Kali erringly thought this was just bluff and bluster from her friend, and was thoroughly shocked when she learned that Ameiko had run away from home two days later. Ameiko had been her rock, and now Kali felt adrift.

A few months later, Ameiko’s mother died in a freak accident. The details of this were sketchy and rumors abounded but the consensus among the residents of Sandpoint was that she had fallen and broken her neck. Word had gotten to Ameiko, though, and she returned to Sandpoint to attend the funeral. They were out of earshot when the fight between she and her brother started so Kali did not hear what was said, but it was very clear that several years’ worth of family discord had come to a head. Tsuto stormed away. This time, he left town for good, and Ameiko felt trapped: with no other family, someone had to stay home and help care for her father.

As their friendship grew, Kali became acutely aware of how unhappy Ameiko was becoming at home around her father, and was not surprised the night in 4705 when Ameiko announced that she was leaving Sandpoint. Again. Kali knew now to take Ameiko seriously when she spoke like this, and even more so not to try and talk her out of a decision she has so clearly made, but she was still surprised by the circumstances: she and the brothers Alder and Sandru Vhiski had signed on with a small group of adventurers, “looking for fame and fortune” as the saying went, and simply…vanished.

A few years previous losing her friend so suddenly had been devastating, but now? Kali instead stopped to examine her own life. It would not be long before she would officially be an adult. What exactly did that mean? She always identified as Vudrani. She looked Vudrani, felt Vudrani and, frankly, admired her father’s ethnic roots more than her mother’s (not that she did not love her mother, of course, it was just that Cheliax had a foul reputation, and that reputation was in her opinion one that was well-deserved). The problem was that she did not act Vudrani, nor could she see herself living in her father’s homeland. They had visited many times over the years but her Varisian upbringing, combined with her mother’s spirited nature and influence, meant that she could never, ever accept the backwards, misogynist caste system so pervasive in that society. She could be proud of her heritage, yes, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be a part of its present. So her future would have to be here, in Varisia, even though she didn’t really fit in here, either.

She could, of course, work in the family business and her parents would be overjoyed to have her there. She knew enough of how it operated that she could easily learn the business of business on the job, and she absolutely loved the mix of cultures and the travel, except…except, her parents didn’t really travel much any more. They were running the business, not managing or negotiating trades themselves, and it seemed that there was more administration and less travel every year. She increasingly saw Nassim Goods as an anchor weighing her down to Sandpoint for years to come.

Yet, her life seemed to be defaulting in this direction. Early on, her dad taught her to speak Elvish because, like the common tongue, it was widely known and thus very useful in foreign cultures, particularly where common was either not known or simply not spoken because it was seen as demeaning. That merchants specifically valued Elvish as a language was no secret to anyone. Her mother taught her Thassilonian because “that’s what educated, civilized people do”, but Kali knew mom cultivated a niche within Nassim Goods dealing in Thassilonian historical artifacts. Even the family’s personal travel always involved business of some sort, and when she was old enough and mature enough to be included that just became the new routine. It was like they were grooming her to run it, consciously or not, and the older she got and more aware of it she became the less she wanted to be a part of it. But what else was there?

The answer to her question came, as answers often did, from Ameiko: like her friend she needed to carve her own path, and do it on her own terms (later, she would recognize the Chelaxian in this epiphany as well). For as long as she could remember she had let her physical limitations dictate her life, and she had consistently made decisions based on what she couldn’t do. That was backwards. What she could do was something where her physical limits were largely irrelevant, and the next morning she informed her parents that she wanted to study magic.

They were enthusiastic about this change in direction. To Denea, it was not so much a change as it was…well…a direction of any sort, something Kali’s life had been lacking to date. To Akmal, it meant that he could stop worrying about his daughter’s safety. Or at least, he would be able to stop worrying at some point in the near future. And to both, it meant their daughter would be developing skills and talents they could both be proud of. It was not just a challenging and potentially rewarding path, but also a distinguished one. Within a few weeks, her parents were researching schools in Magnimar and found several options for her once she turned eighteen.

Kali was surprised yet again when Ameiko returned the following year. This time, however, their reunion was much, much different: Kali noticed a distance that wasn’t there before. Ameiko had always been guarded about her personal life, particularly where it concerned her family, but this was much different. She did not want to talk about herself and she did not want to talk about what had happened during her time away from Sandpoint or any of her adventures at all. Kali knew better than to press her on the subjects: clearly Ameiko needed some time, and she would talk about these things when she was ready. Except “ready” never came. Instead, Ameiko abruptly purchased an inn with some of the money she had acquired over the past year, ran it personally as her full-time business, all but disowned her father and became even more guarded about her personal life than ever. She was still happy to have Kali as a friend, but it was clear that “close friend” was no longer on the table. Not for Kali and, as near as Kali could tell, not for anyone else, either.

While Kali was preparing for her new studies and getting more excited about her future, Akmal was growing more concerned about his family’s. Sandpoint had seemed to be a wise business decision nearly a decade before but it was starting to look less so now. It was still cheaper to own and operate out of the warehouses and ports here than in Magnimar, even including the caravan transport and insurance charges, but Sandpoint itself seemed to have settled under a dark cloud that nothing could burn away. During the Late Unpleasantness, one of his warehouse workers fell victim to The Chopper leaving behind an uneducated and illiterate wife to raise their three young children. His foreman was killed in the great fire that consumed many of the buildings around the Cathedral. The strange stories told about the young lady Nualia, whom he had seen in town but did not personally know, quickly developed a more sinister tone when it was learned that she had perished in the fire as well but that her remains were nowhere to be found.

In the following years, the occasional goblin nuisance had become frequent enough that it was now an accepted part of life in town. Kali, who had grown up surrounded by all of this oddness, did not bat an eye at ancient magics, goblin raids and rumors of worse, but Akmal and Denea had seen more than enough of the world to know that the pattern of events taking shape in Sandpoint was far from normal. When goblins raided the city on the night of the Swallowtail festival in 4707, two more employees were killed along with some members of their families, and several buildings in town were damaged. That was followed by bizarre murders at the sawmill, and Akmal started to worry about not just about his family’s future but also their collective safety.

Normally, Akmal would dismiss such concerns. He grew up around blades and was capable enough with the khopesh that he was still alive and sporting only a couple of minor scars. And Denea? She and her parents may have been born in Varisia, but they were Chelaxian through and through. He had yet to meet a Chelaxian woman that was uncomfortable around a sword, and Denea’s only hesitation with one would be whether to run it through your left eye or your right. But it was one thing to discourage ambitious thieves, fend off drunken would-be “suitors” and pound the occasional violent thug, and yet another entirely to face a small army of invading…creatures. When giants attacked the town the following year with the help of an enormous dragon, setting much of the town on fire along with many of its residents, Akmal had had enough. Shortly before Kali began her studies in Magnimar, he relocated both his business and his family there as well.

For Kali, life in Magnimar was exhilirating after living so many years in a small city, but she did recognize that it also was more dangerous: she was still a short, young woman with a very slight frame and exotic appearance only now she was of age, and that potentially made her a beacon for every kind of unsavory element that Magnimar had to offer, and Magnimar had a lot to offer. But Ameiko had taught her well: the secrets to survival as a woman were to always be vigilant and, most importantly, to not look like a victim.

The former was easy as it had been literally beaten into her when she was young, but the latter took some careful work on her clothing and overall appearance. For the finishing touch on her new city look, she sold the small khopesh her father had given her years ago…and replaced it with a much, much larger one custom made with a particularly wicked blade. At over two feet in length it looked ridiculously large strapped to her 5’6″ body, but it also looked exceptionally lethal. It didn’t matter that Kali could only posture with it (and just barely, that): it served its purpose as a deterrent and over the next year she never once had to do more than draw it—which is good, because if she actually had to swing the stupid thing the ruse would have been over. In her updated attire she couldn’t quite wander the city with impunity, but she was not restricted to daylight hours in only the safest, most sanitized parts of it, either.

In 4712, as her apprenticeship was coming to an end, she received a letter from Ameiko asking her to come to Sandpoint for a visit. “Think of it as a graduation trip,” she wrote. Kali didn’t have to do so for very long before making the decision to go. Dad would fret, as dad always did, especially since it was Sandpoint (no matter that it had been quiet there for four whole years) but that couldn’t be helped. This was her decision to make, and she missed her friend.