FAERIL LASTBORN

HISTORY

Personality Traits: Lost too many friends.
Ideal: Live and let live.
Bond: Never leave a friend behind.
Flaw: Little respect if not a proven warrior.

"I am the bringer of vengeance and the seeker of my truth."

Background

Five years ago Faeril Lastborn wandered out of the Great Desert of Anauroch – discovered along one of the trade routes in that region of Faerun by a caravan of Halfling traders.

To hear them tell it, she just appeared at the edge of the road at dusk – a spectre of death – gore matting her hair and gear – the blade of the short sword gripped in her fist, notched and dulled – the shield hanging on her arm, shattered.

She was catatonic - eyes fixed on a distant horizon - cheeks streaked with tears - jaw slack.

At first they feared she was one of the unholy undead, but the cleric travelling with the caravan confirmed she was alive, though obviously suffering from the effects of a yet unknown traumatic event.

The next three days, she would fitfully sleep in the back of a covered wagon, her physical wounds tended by the cleric – the wounds to her mind and spirit remaining raw and angry. She would occasionally mutter “no one left” … head thrashing back and forth … sobs wracking her slight body … and occasionally sitting straight up screaming, before slouching back down.

The concern etching the cleric’s face eased on the morn of the fourth day, when she finally awoke for a moment – long enough to eat some rations before exhaustion overtook her again. For the better part of a fortnight this cycle continued until she insisted she was strong enough to ride one of the spare horses – wanting to earn her keep – though no one expected her to.

Though friendly, she was troubled – unsure who she was or who were her people – which caused her to be distant. She had absolutely no memory of her past – frustrated that she could not even remember her own name.

The Halflings took it upon themselves to give her a name - Faeril Lastborn – Faeril the name of their closest elven ally and Lastborn as it appeared she was the last of her people.

They also outfitted her in some spare leather armor and a longsword and she quickly proved her worth and trustworthiness – leading the defence of the caravan from multiple attacks from bandits – her prowess with the sword evident.

Years later, her memory has not returned and she has adopted Faeril Lastborn as her official name.

Vengeance and solving the mystery of her existence drive her – she is not quick to trust and respects those who can take care of themselves and works to be as self-sufficient as possible.

Prologue

Chapter 1

She could hear the Umber Hulk behind them and from the commotion coming from up ahead, it sounded like that was not the only trouble in these cursed mines.

She felt the rough haft of the Gnoll’s primitive spear in her calloused hands – grinning to herself – she truly enjoyed snatching it away from the dog faced coward.

The sounds of flesh being ripped from bone snapped her out of her revelry and she grasped the spear ever tighter – wishing for her trusty chainmail and longsword. The gentle sway of her breasts as she ran reminding her how exposed she really was.

Her breathing was laboured, the Gnoll’s bite taking its toll on her. But it did not stop her from playfully smacking the dwarf on the back as she passed him.

And then she heard someone shout that the damn dwarf had fallen victim to Umber Hulk’s bedazzling gaze – besotted like a simpleton.

She came to a stop and her shoulders sagged just a little as she realized what she would have to do. She was not going to leave the little hairy bastard behind. As she turned to see where he was, one of her last thoughts before darkness overtook her was "That is weird – who is swinging that hammer at my head". And her final thought – karma is a bitch.

Chapter 2

Faeril’s eyes fluttered open and as her eyes scanned the ceiling above her, she realized that her new companions must have carried her away from the Gnoll mines.

As she lay there, she briefly wondered if it had been a dream, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. The magic tingling in every fibre of her being belied the fact that it could have been a dream. It felt very different from her paladin magic – feeling alien and yet familiar at the same time. What language had the mysterious figure spoken or did it even speak? No matter how hard she tried, her mind’s eye could not conjure up what it had looked like – but the feeling of awe and dread remained. And it was clear to her that failure would not be tolerated.

She levered herself up on her elbows and took in her surroundings. Her companions had set up camp in a craggy, massive cavern whose floor was uneven and seemed to slope upwards towards the north where there was a plateau of some sort – though she was not absolutely sure if it was north – her already poor sense of direction made worse by the fact she was still a bit discombobulated from her “nap”.

Her eyes first fell upon the Dwarf – Bruenor – who just happened to be looking in her direction at that very moment. His eyes widened and winced with regret and he gave an apologetic shrug – as if to say sorry for smacking you in the face and knocking you unconscious. She nodded back with a reassuring smile – which had the desired effect – the worry draining from his bearded face. He went back to packing some gear – which she realized that he must have liberated during their escape from the Gnolls. Clever Dwarf. She held no ill will towards him – he had been beguiled by the Umber Hulk and at the end of the day he carried her to safety – or at least she assumed he had. That being said, she made a mental note never to stand too close to him during combat and to only offer aid if he was unconscious – when he was least likely to cause havoc.

Her gaze next alighted upon the female Elf – Nera was her name if memory served. She seemed adept at defending herself in a tight pinch, but it was still not clear what was this Elf’s story? Was she a warrior? A spell slinger? A scoundrel? As she regarded her Elven cousin, something caught her attention – hanging around her neck – a whistle which nestled in her bosom. A whistle that had been hanging around the neck of a Gnoll guard. Faeril grinned at the thought of Nera collecting trophies from her fallen opponents.

Abruptly Magoo’s tusked face filled her field of vision. There was no mistaking him for anything but an Orc – but his features were softened by some Human heritage. He clapped her on the shoulder and grunted the observation “Awake!” – his snout like nose crinkling as he guffawed at a joke only he seemed to understand. He then strode off to gather up his meager gear. The muscles in his legs rippled as he walked. There was no mistaking him for anything but a warrior. Of everyone in her new party – he seemed the most comfortable with his nakedness – almost reveling in it. She watched as he swung his makeshift weapon in front of him – the spade a blur as it whooshed through the air – decapitating imagined opponents.

The other obvious warrior among them was Vlad – a Human. The shadows cast by the smoky torch in his hand danced across his face. His muscled shoulders and the way he held himself left no doubt he was a warrior. She looked forward to witnessing his prowess on the battlefield for herself. Perhaps dispatching a Gnoll or two in the near future.

The other Elf in the party was Korit – a Moon Elf if she was not mistaken. He was still a mystery to her, but he moved with the ease of a cat and she could see in his eyes he was driven by an all-consuming quest for vengeance – something with which she could relate – or was it redemption he sought. Sometimes vengeance and redemption were just two sides of the same coin – and perspective was the only thing separating them.

Now that she had awoken, she and her companions gathered together and there was agreement that they needed to retrieve their gear and weapons; that the Gnolls needed to be taught a lesson; and that the mines warranted a bit more investigation.

Shortly, Korit and Nera led the companions back into the Gnoll mines. They stealthily scouted ahead and eventually they stumbled upon four Gnoll guards.

The battle was brief and brutal and the Gnolls were dispatched with relative ease, but it was a reminder to Faeril never to underestimate or disrespect an opponent – one of the Gnoll’s spears caught her in her torso forcing her to invoke her paladin powers – the gash along her ribs closing as the magic did its work.

The battle was also an opportunity for her to try some of her new powers – bolts of eldritch energy - an exciting addition to her combat repertoire. She also realized that she did not have everything she needed to unlock all of her new found powers – she would need to find a petrified eye of a newt to realize her full potential.

And she was not the only one to reveal new powers. Early in the battle, Nera transformed into a giant hairy spider and pounced upon a Gnoll – her mandibles dripping with poison. Faeril was impressed by this display of savagery, but was more impressed by how this spider magically healed Vlad – who had temporarily succumbed to his wounds. Nera was truly a fine traveling companion – someone who had earned respect and deference.

The search of the mines revealed nothing and was a figurative and literal dead end. The only positive was that they were able to find their gear and weapons – though the food and water were unsurprisingly missing. Faeril noted that everyone seemed to stride with a bit more confidence now that they were clothed and armed.

It became quickly evident that they would need to leave the mines and travel the caverns in search of answers and a way to the surface.

They trudged through a seemingly endless warren of rough-hewn passageways and caverns for what felt like hours – nothing really changing except the number and position of stalactites and stalagmites.

Finally, as they hiked down a passageway that curved to the right, an orange glow could be seen up ahead as they came out of the curve and the glow was accompanied by an oppressive heat. As they made their way further down the corridor, the orange glow grew brighter and the heat more oppressive until the corridor opened up into a cavern. The cavern ceiling rose 30 feet above their heads and the floor of the cavern was a massive magma field – islands of stone of various sizes scattered throughout the molten rock.

Vlad volunteered to scout up ahead – leaping to the closest stone island. Nera once again transformed into a giant hairy spider – her companions gawking at this incredible display of magic – and scampered up the walls and across the ceiling towards a corridor at the far end of the cavern.

Without warning two Magma Mephits burst forth from a magma pool adjacent to the island of stone upon which Vlad stood. They attacked the Human fighter with their fire breath – almost laying him low. Faeril was impressed how he held his own against these two foes and to help her companion, she launched a bolt of eldritch energy at one of the Mephits that had been wounded. To her surprise and horror, the Mephit exploded – the aftermath leaving Vlad unconscious. Before his companions could leap to his defense, a Hell Hound emerged from another pool of magma – a cone of fire breath bathing Bruenor, Magoo, Korit and Faeril in flame. When the flames subsided, only Faeril stood and in desperation she cast Dissonant Whispers at the Hell Hound. The Hound – wracked with immense psychic pain – fled before the half Elf warrior – diving into the pool of magma from which it had emerged.

Desperate, Faeril leapt across to Vlad’s still body to see what she could do to help, unsure where the other Mephit had gotten to. At the same time Nera was scurrying back across the ceiling to see the source of the commotion. She helped Faeril to ferry Vlad back to the rest of the party and then Nera worked feverishly to stabilize their companions. Faeril – exhausted – stumbled as she tried to leap across the stream of magma to join Nera in her work – partially falling into the molten rock. Fortunately she was able to drag herself out of the magma well before she succumbed to the heat and fire.

And then the two companions dragged their unconscious companions down the corridor – out of the cavern and away from the immediate danger. Faeril’s face was etched with concern – unsure how they would be able to navigate this cavern.

Chapter 10

Faeril glanced down at Vlad in the pit … the human struggling to climb out. A look of amusement, tinged with annoyance, crossed her face.

She turned her head away quickly when Vlad’s shield - imbued with a light spell - flashed in her eyes as he finally exited the pit. He brushed himself off and with a “hrumph” he spun on his heel to face the passageway down which the two lizard men had escaped.

Faeril placed a restraining hand on Vlad’s shoulder and hissed “Wait!” Uncharacteristically he did stop - not hurling himself after the two fleeing enemy lizard men.

She glanced back at her friends - perhaps friends of convenience - but friends nonetheless.

MooGoo’s hulking frame came into view - covered in gore - dragging the body of a lizard man behind him and his axe gripped in his other hand - the shaft slick with blood. She was always amazed at the mayhem MooGoo could cause.

Seeing MooGoo inspired an idea and a wicked grin creased Faeril’s face.

She strode toward their lizard man guide and spoke quickly with him - gesturing to the dead enemies, MooGoo and Bruenor - both of whom had a quizzical expressions on their faces.

The lizard man gleefully slapped Faeril on the back - almost dancing in place he was so happy.

Faeril then quickly strode to the dwarf and explained her plan. The dwarf guffawed and rubbed his hairy hands together.

Finally she crossed to MooGoo and spoke a few words to her hulking friend. He nodded his head and the murderous look in his eyes made the two half elves and human - who were watching Faeril as she flit from one person to the next - unconsciously take a step back.

They looked on in horror as MooGoo used his axe to remove the heads from the five corpses. He then dropped the five heads - two which had surprised expressions - at Bruenor’s feet.

Faeril looked quite pleased with herself.

Nera couldn’t hold back any longer and blurted out “What in the love of the Green are you up to?”

“So they know we are coming … and they are probably preparing their defences … so we have lost the element of surprise” explained Faeril seemingly unnecessarily … to which Nera replied “So what?!”

Faeril held out a hand and signaled Nera to listen and she continued her explanation.

“And Vlad needs a light source, which makes him a target. So I thought why not take advantage of the fact that we have five corpses - specifically five heads.”

“When we are ready to go, Bruenor has agreed to cast light on the five heads. We will then toss them down the corridor ahead of us …” at which point Faeril made a bowling motion “… providing light for Vlad so he does not need to have his shield lite up like a beacon and maybe the heads will set off a trap and maybe having five glowing heads of their friends rolling down the corridor will freak out our enemy - making them a bit afraid of us.”

Faeril crossed her arms across her chest as she said “Just because we are good doesn’t mean we can’t be savage and brutal …”

“So what do you think Nera?

Faeril's words still resounded in my mind; "so what do you think Nera?" What did I think? The plan was sound, unless we came up with a better one fairly soon She was correct. We had lost the element of surprise. Since Vlad needed light, why not use a head instead of a shield. It made no difference to me. My delay in responding was that her question caught me by surprise. Was she seeking my approval or my input? After the fact? MooGoo had already be-headed the lizard men. So the heads were available. There was no going back on that. Was she questioning my capacity to be savage and brutal when it was necessary or when it could work to our advantage? Ah Faeril, my dear secretive Faeril. Your pragmatism surprised me, that is all. Children of the Green do whatever they must to protect and defend. This includes savagery and brutality as needed. I have no qualms. So I replied.

"Seems to a workable plan. Unless someone has another, we should discuss more details."