Abandoned as a Halfling child, she was raised by the druid Oelrich, who instilled in her the importance of destinies. Her goal has been to seek out Demeter and avert the world's destruction from a fiendish invasion.

A Child of Destiny

 
To be despised from the day you are born is a terrible thing.
 
Yet this is all that I have ever known. As a baby I was abandoned in the woods, left to be devoured by wolves, bears, or whatever wild things happened upon me. All because of my mismatched eyes.
 
A bear did find me that day, but not the kind my parents expected. That night, Oelrich the Druid found me and took me into his care. Transforming from a great brown bear into an elderly man, he took me back to his mountain home and taught me how to survive in the wilds.
 
During my fifteenth winter, Oelrich crafted a magical lute that received a blessing from the goddess Istus. When he played the instrument, she gifted him with a vision of the world's end. A dangerous archdemon would rise from the lower plane and lead an army of fiends out to conquer the world. The vision haunted Oelrich, and he tried to rouse the other druids to action. Yet none of them believed his words to be true, and in desperation he and I went to the Temple of Istus to consult the Oracle.
 
At the Temple of Istus, the Oracle confirmed the validity of the vision. Yet she also shared some hope: that a chance still lay ahead in the future for the cataclysmic event to be stopped. In the scrying pool she showed us the image of a young Elf, one who would be the catalyst to avert disaster. Her features remain emblazoned within my mine even to this day, for the hope that lit Oelrich's face still heartens me.
 
It pains me to share what happened next hurts for me to share… yet I must. As we prepared to depart, a rift to the nether planes tore open in the chamber, and an Ember Knight, a demonic warrior of the Lower Plane, emerged from the portal with a blazing longsword in its armored hand, the fires of doom blazing beneath its black helmet. The Oracle it slew with a single stroke, but Oelrich raised a barrier that blocked it advancing on us. Holding the demon at bay, he thrust his lute into my hands and bade me to flee, to escape and save the world. Yet my feet were numb as the horror shattered the barrier and blew forth its Breath of Unlife. Oelrich protected me from the attack, but the curse drained away his soul, turning him into a shadow demon enthralled to the Demonic Knight.
 
I fled then, racing across the Temple into the mountains and far away until I could run no more. The Knight did not pursue me, but later that night what remained of Oelrich did. He shambled into my hiding place and tried to kill me, and I barely managed to release him from his torment with his own silver blade. As he collapsed and his body withered from the necrotic curse, I heard his voice whisper on the wind "Find… the Elf…."
 

Destiny Restored

 
My journey from there turned listless wandering. Across mountains and forests across the land, never staying in one place very long. A few times I came across a village and tried to avail myself of their courtesy, and most of the time they chased me off at the sight of my eyes. It's hard to tell if that or the ones who responded with pity were worse, and after a few encounters I kept my distance and kept to the hills.
 
After some time—weeks, months, they run together in the wild—I awoke to the plaintive cries of baby pseudodragons in distress. I rushed to a cave and found a group of undead harrying a pack of newly hatched pseudodragons. The corpses of six other hatchlings lay strewn about, ravaged by the horde of zombies. Rushing in, I hacked the shambling corpses apart, saving the last hatchling.
 
The little hatchling pseudodragon raised its eyes to meet mine, sending a telepathic feeling of gratitude even through its fear. And tremendous sadness. A quick glance around, and the mother pseudodragon's corpse could easily be found torn apart by the undead. This little creature, little more than the size of a chick, was as alone as I myself was. Alone it would die. With only a little hesitation, I took it with me and cared for it.
 
Pseudodragons are grown about six months after they are hatched, and Zeke (my affectionate name for the orphan dragon) had grown to the size of a young cat. At this time, I told him to leave and be free, but with a cocked head he only sent me confusion. He asked if I did not like him, and when I said that I did, it sent an image of the two of us as a pair. And in that moment, I could not refuse the truth: we were pack.
 
As the time went by, I felt more and more adrift. Oelrich had taught me to always be mindful of Istus' guidance, yet my faith had faded from pain and memories. One day I found myself repairing the Lute of Istus, and as my fingers strummed the strings a vision came. An archdemon bursting from the earth. A horde of undead and fiends ravaging the land. And through it all, a Wood Elf whose face I had tried and failed to forget.
 
And from there my purpose returned. "Find the Elf." Oelrich's words again whispered through my mind. Somewhere in Talonspire, a Wood Elf would be the savior of the realm. Grabbing my pack and perching Zeke on my shoulder, I set off to complete my mentor's quest to protect the realm, knowing that someday, somehow, I would find the Elf.

Gender

Female

Eyes

One Blue, One Green

Hair

Black

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Tanned and dirty

Height

3'1"

Weight

41 lb