Khalsinn Llanowen
The Wolfstalker
Wolfstalker Khalsinn Llanowar
The blade of my axe is sharp, but anyone in my family can pick up an axe and swing it with good measure. Only my wit is as sharp as my blade, which is how I became the diplomat in Grandfather's stead.The deep greens of her leather armor blends in with her surroundings as she stalks her prey like a wolf. The giant beast before her is set to be a great meal for her tribe, but only if she can take the killing blow. The others close by have bowstrings pulled taut, ready to fire if anything goes awry. She stalks ever closer until she can leap out in a frenzied rage and take down the hulking beast before her. Known as the Wolfstalker for her very delicate way of hunting, Khalsinn Llanowar falls between two very different worlds. She is one of the many elven barbarians of the Spine of Kallex, fighting wild animals and monsters of all types. In times of peace, she serves as a diplomat, her softer more feminine side being an asset in dealings with others. Still, those in her tribe see this softness as a weakness and insult her mercilessly. Living in the Spine often means tragedy, one does not escape unscathed after entering such a harsh mountain range. This is a hard truth for Khalsinn and her two sisters as they look toward their grandparents as parental figures. Their parents died long before, succumbing to whatever means of death the Spine dealt out that day. But the world continues on, with or without you in the Spine, a fact that Khalsinn took to heart. The Spine is one place of harshness, but the Underdark, a place she often travels is unforgiving. During the good months, her tribe serves as mercenaries for the traders that choose to travel the Great Tunnel instead of the long months of overland travel to cross the Northern Continent of Isekai. She serves as an envoy with her grandfather, making the trade deals that will keep the tribe well fed during the colder, harsher months of the winter. She travels with a badger, often her only companion except on great hunts. The creature is ferocious, falling into the ravaging ways of the badger, yet when in the arms of Khalsinn, it is as soft and cuddly as a puppy. She named the ferocious creature Sakura, although others say that the evil creature resembles nothing of the sort. In all ways of life, Khalsinn is a contradiction, soft in ways barbarians should not be. Her sisters tease her, but even they cannot live up to the quiet ways and expert hunting skills of the Wolfstalker. While a contradiction in personality, her skills are beyond many in the tribe, a testament to the training of the warrior who may be named princess.
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
Khalsinn is very tall for an elf, but her body is lithe and delicate. Her body lends itself more to the delicacies of a hunter or a dancer, but she is strong enough to participate in the barbarian ways.
Body Features
Her skin is fair in color, with dirty blonde locks that often fall in her face. She has no tattoos, but her face and many body parts are often painted in the war paint of her people.
Facial Features
Her face fits her delicate build, but her facial features are striking, catching people's attention quickly. The intricate war paint that she paints on daily hides those striking features in favor of camouflage.
Physical quirks
Those that fight with her say she walks with the grace of a deer but with the silence and confidence of a wolf. It is odd, even for an elf to have such a gait but it comes to her with ease. She is right-handed, but favors two-handed weapons over single-handed weapons.
Apparel & Accessories
Khalsinn dresses in soft leathers in earthen tones, as much of her tribe does. This is her normal hunting garb as well as her daily wear, but she may choose items of darker colors for her sporadic trips into the Underdark.
Specialized Equipment
Her favored weapon is a greataxe but she tends to use whatever weapons are at hand, even her own fists.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Khalsinn was born the second of three daughters, but her time with her parents was short. The Spine took them away shortly after her younger sister was born and she was left in the care of her grandparents. Her grandfather was seen as a leader in the tribe, giving her more opportunities for learning and training than many of the other children her age.
Time moved on in the Spine, no matter who was or was not there. She grew, she trained, she came across a badger. Things continued much the same as they always had. Her name became the Wolfstalker after she felled a dire wolf that the men had been hunting for years to no avail. Her delicate ways were often laughed at, but they brought results that no one could deny.
Education
Khalsinn lacks any formal training in the ways of schooling but she has learned a variety of things by following her grandparents around. She is proficient with a variety of weapons and techniques as well as having learned the language of the Underdark.
Employment
She serves as one of the hunters of the tribe but often gets sent out on diplomatic missions when needed as her barbarian temper is often hidden under the soft personality that she presents.
Morality & Philosophy
Morality is an interesting concept to her. She does not have the strict, lawful morals of the paladins she has seen to the north. She seems to align more with the Outlanders of the south, choosing to make her own path when necessary. Violence is her answer to any and all challenges, but killing is not something she takes lightly. Stupidity and greed will get you killed, but only if it is deserving.
Personality Characteristics
Motivation
Khalsinn is motivated by pride and the need to please her family. Everything she does is for the betterment of her clan. Her failures bring her deep sorrow when they happen but she uses that emotion to drive her forward and continue to be better than before.
Personality Quirks
With the grace of a dancer often comes constant stretching. She is often seen stretching before a battle or a hunt, limbering up before her performance. Also in instances of agitation or fear, before a battle or hunt, she will speak quickly and quietly in the language of the dark elves, using the rough tongue as a way to calm her nerves.
Hygiene
While Khalsinn lives the nomadic life of a barbarian, full of constant travel and hunting, she never likes to hear the word "dirty" directed her way. She bathes often, causing those around her to pick on her more than normal, but she takes her job as envoy to the Underdark seriously and keeps clean.
Social
Family Ties
Relationships
History
These two met at a very young age when Miz's father and Khalsinn's grandfather met to sort out trade deals. Often when the two came together in Miz's childhood home, they would teach each other about their cultures, including the drow secret language. This bond went deep, having secret messages being sent to each other during the time that Miz was training at the academy in her city. When Miz chose to leave the Underdark, she was taken in as a part of the Llanowar Clan, serving in the same position as Khalsinn when it came to trading and the business of the family. These two are very close friends, often acting like siblings.
Nicknames & Petnames
Miz & Khals
An elven barbarian of the Spine of Kallex, a well-known nomad, a member of the Outlands. Khalsinn and her tribe live on the edge of a harsh environment, meeting that harshness with their own.
View Character Profile
Alignment
Neutral Good
Species
Ethnicity
Date of Birth
22 Summer's Evening, 120 E.A.
Year of Birth
120 EA
180 Years old
Birthplace
Spine of Kallex
Spouses
Siblings
Children
Gender
Female
Eyes
Green, Bright
Hair
Long, dirty blonde
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Fair
Height
6'1"
Weight
175lbs
Aligned Organization
Other Affiliations
Mental Characteristics
Accomplishments & AchievementsIn the Spine, no one really keeps track of great accomplishments and achievements. Surviving another day when your existence comes from nowhere else other than the Spine is the greatest achievement one of these barbarians can have. So far, Khalsinn has accomplished much.
When anger is a driving emotion followed closely by survival in the daily life of a barbarian, you have two choices: either succeed or die. There really is no failure in this world as failure means death. They pay very little attention to things such as failures and embarrassments, choosing to move forward, otherwise, the Spine will leave you behind.
Having traveled parts of the Underdark with her Father and seeing the variety of creatures that the Spine can create, Khalsinn fears little. She was really too young to remember her parents when they left. Her grandparents easily filled that hole before the child could even realize it was there.
Khalsinn is very logical and well-spoken, but she can often hit extremes in both of these. She can be logical to a fault where her own logical is harmful or she can ignore the logic in the face of the barbarian anger. She can mingle with dignitaries from various nations and seem far from her barbarian roots or she can seem like the common folk. Her thoughts and words come in ranges, only those who know her well have seen that.
Personality Characteristics
Savvies & IneptitudesWhile she is neither fantastic or horrible at many things, Khalsinn's greatest trait is that she is curious. She strives to be good at everything, learning whatever she can and hopefully removing whatever ineptitudes she has.
Khalsinn loves to travel. Being a nomad, she travels a great deal but she never strays far from the Spine or into the Underdark. She searches for opportunities to go beyond that and learn about the greater world. While her tribe is not unintelligent, she prefers to search for knowledge like the elves of the kingdom instead of staying inside her own knowledge base.
She is patient as all hunters need to be but she is also gracious. She does not see a need for constant violence and killing, even though violence is often her answer to challenges, especially those that insult her tribe. She has often let animals live in instances where she has stumbled upon mothers and children, but she cannot be gracious to a point where it would bring harm to the tribe. The tribe comes before all else, no matter what she must do for it.
Violence is something that Khalsinn uses as an answer, sometimes in the worst of circumstances. Challenges to her pride or against her tribe are met with a raging vengeance, often burning hotter than the well-known rage of the barbarians. She tries not to live a life buried in the violence she brings, but some things trigger the anger that she hides well.
Social
Social AptitudeKhalsinn has to be socially adept due to her role as a diplomat between the barbarians and the Underdark. She is well-versed in the etiquette and mannerisms necessary to function in either the Underdark or the Elvish Kingdom. She is considered, by far, to be the most 'civilized' in her tribe.
She often picks up on the mannerisms of those around her, especially when she is serving as a diplomat. Outside of that, her mannerisms are very confident, never shaking when she speaks.
While she has had many pets during her years, her most recent one is her badger Sakura that often travels with her.
Khalsinn enjoys reading and learning new things as a hobby. One of her most prized possessions is a small book that she was gifted by someone in the Underdark that helps teach their language.
Wealth does not come in the form of coins or valuables for Khalsinn. While she was gifted a small pouch of coins from her grandfather when she set out, she is more wealthy in terms of family ties and her travel companion, Sakura.
Dark Cities of Dark Elves
2 Summer’s Morning, 300 E.A.
We’ve been in these tunnels for two weeks, but I have yet to venture out of our cavern. When the others decided to attempt the bridge over the abyss and head towards the dark city, I had expected Reinys to step forward and lead the way like she always did. But this time, she stepped back, pushing Miz and I to the front to lead. After our encounters with the Drow, Miz was hesitant, what little she had of her identity could easily be taken away from her if she left the safety of our home, so I took the lead, charging headlong into everything like I always did.
The dwarf and the sailor were strong, but it was soon apparent to me how little their strength actually mattered when there were tasks to complete. They were masters of their crafts, but pure brute strength was not something they had. I got us safely over the wall and into the city, but I would soon find out what else I would be saving the others from.
For all the great work that the dwarf does, he may let a small notion of fear decide his actions. We had to argue over something as simple as boots, only to be left in the middle of the street fighting undead that would be much better handled by our paladin, but we didn’t have a choice.
For the first time since I gained the aspect of the hydra, I called on that power, using it to continue on in the fight against the wraith and its minions. The others stared in awe for a moment as the hydra weaved around my limbs, its many heads growing and glowing with its power. With that power and my burning sword, I felt unstoppable for just a moment.
When the hoards of empty soldiers came, we chose to leave the dark city. Something was going on here that was beyond our knowledge and our capabilities to fight. Even barbarians must bow to power in numbers. The numbers that marched through the city was one of the greatest armies that I had ever seen, far outnumbering what I had seen in other Drow cities. But no city I had ever seen could compare to the grandeur that lay hidden in the mist.
Tunnels Below
14 Spring's Evening, 300 E.A.
To say I was excited to head back to the Underdark was an understatement. I knew my excitement pissed off Miz to no end, but some of my best times happened in the dark tunnels of the Underdark. Grandfather loved teaching about the creatures, using each encounter as another learning and training opportunity. In some ways, I was sure I was as deadly as a Drow when it came to dispatching Underdark creatures, but Miz argued with that constantly, always saying how that should never be something I would want.
I understood her reluctance, but from what Reinys had said, we would be leagues away from the city and the bitch Zilvra. For that I was glad because I wasn't sure that I could stop myself from laying into the woman if I saw her. In those instances, I was as protective as my Grandmother, and that in itself was a scary thought.
The month of rest on Tortle Rock was nice, but I was ready to stretch my muscles and fight an actual fight. The tortles sometimes watched Miz and I spar, but it was almost like a teaching session than the battle that both of us wanted. We hated to leave without hearing from Reinys, waiting for her call. I've never seen a dire wolf pout, but that one of hers sure did when he was left with us instead of going with her.
During that month I often thought how the last group had ended, and how only sheer stupidity could lead to that situation. The scars Reinys and I had from protecting the damned idiots would remain for years to come, but obviously us stopping stupidity and taking attacks meant to kill others wasn't enough for these people. For that I thanked the goddess that they had chosen to split from us and make their own way. I was tired of being the shield for those that could not protect themselves.
It was chaos in our room when the letter arrived from Reinys. It took only minutes to pack and prepare for our next great journey, loading down Fjord and Callimar with our things and the supplies needed for the journey. Syndra had traded her dress for my extra clothes, allowing us to tie intricate harnesses around her legs to keep her on the wolf. He seemed ready for a run and we could only hope that the goat and the lizard could keep up with a pent up wolf.
We had a few days to meet up with Reinys and the others that had joined with her. She had taken up the mantle of leader yet again, and for that I was glad. It was a weight off my shoulders that allowed me to fight more and worry less. With a shout to our home away from home, we began our journey to the tunnels below and whatever waited for us.
Islands of Safety
21 Spring's Noon, 300 E.A.
I should have known by now that any sign of danger coming to us meant the equivalent to a shit storm. The drums of the orcs echoed across the lake and all of us took cover, except for the very obvious white tabaxi. That meant a fight, something that excited me more than it should, but I felt the adrenaline of a fight and I couldn't ignore the call of the Huntress. The way of the barbarian was to fight, and fight I would, no matter the consequences.
Grandfather had often told us about the orcs that ransacked villages in the Spine during the Eldritch War. Those orcs that lived close to the lake were far removed from the ones that he spoke of, but I was beyond excited to fight these warring people, since it was no secret the extreme dislike orcs and elves had for each other. As they landed on the lakeshore, I fitted an arrow in my bowstring, loosing what was only the beginning of an entertaining battle. With the twang of the string, an orc fell and from there all hell broke loose. The cat threw a smoke bomb, shrouding most of the destroyed town and a few of the orcs. I drew my sword from my back and flew easily into a rage, striking down the group of orcs in front of me while the others dealt with those in the smoke and their half-orc leader.
I was lost in my fight, but soon drawn from that focus by an explosion that left me deaf and my ears ringing. I finished the orcs close to me before turning to see the greater mess that the others had brought upon us. The half-orc that I had heard slinging spells was now larger than any of us, towering over us and ready to strike. As the fight had gone on, my rage had brought focus along with a kill count that would make my grandfather proud. I stepped towards the towering half-orc and let loose a blow that would have their spell faltering and their life hanging by a thread.
Once the half-orc was taken down, the remaining few orcs ran for their boats, their horn call from earlier still hanging in the air. More drums sounded as longboats moved across the lake and volleys of arrows rained down upon us. With the first instance of caution since we left Barkest, the group decided to run, hiding our tracks as we moved far enough away from the orcs to be able to remove the barbed arrows that the orcs were known for. Our cleric helped the others remove their arrows, but I was impatient and removed my own, ready to be away from the nonsense that the others had gotten us into.
Another night on the plains was quiet, and for that I was glad. Predators roamed close, but they passed us by as we rested. The next morning brought us to the river Wilderrun and on the far side, Tortle Rock Island. With the wild shape of the druid, we were ferried across, but not without the help of my barbarian magic to calm the fear of Fjord. We were welcomed to the island and found a bed to sleep in at the inn. The others wished to find specific residents of the island to gain something, but I wanted the peace of the open air and the quiet of this island. The further west we traveled, the closer we got to my homeland and the family Miz and I had left behind months ago. It felt odd to be so close but to not be heading towards Leverion. As the days warmed, grandfather would be moving the camp back towards the pass, away from the winter home close to the frozen north of the paladins. They would begin the preparation for the summer trade missions to the Underdark, and for the first time in a long time, I wouldn't be there.
We chose to wait for the others to catch up, sending one of the druid's creatures back to Barkest. I was impatient to see Miz and tell her of the battles, but I more impatient for the paladin's advice. Either way, we would continue moving toward the Fairy King's Wood and the Feywild, for reasons I was still unsure about. But I would follow my friends, no matter the danger that waited for us.
Off Again
20 Spring's Noon, 300 E.A.
As we prepared to continue on to wherever the hell we were going, the skin of my back itched as I covered the intricate sign of the hydra I now wore, but I knew better than to walk out of this town with such a mark on display. We would be traveling a great distance, either across the lake or around the lake, and somewhere I knew it the back of my mind that a fight awaited us no matter which way we chose. The others took their time after exiting the dungeon to make preparations and fill their bags, while I spent the evening conversing with Sakura and sharping my blades.
We sat at the table in the inn, discussing our plans, working on our various things, and I laughed through most of it. When it came to travel, they lost their wits, worried about finding an abandoned wagon or catching the giant koi of the lake. I was beginning to understand what Reinys had told me when we left Kestel and what she had repeated once they arrived in Barkest and I retold what had happened in the hydra den. There had been much celebration between the four of us, with smiles finally coming to the faces of Reinys and Syndra for the first time in awhile, but that couldn't last as we discussed our next move and the path we would take.
With much convincing, the others chose to follow the shore of the lake to the south, utilizing the mounts we already had instead of attempting some other crazy form of travel. We left early in the morning, once again leaving our friends and continuing on.
The first night out was quiet. They took extreme precautions setting up camp as I continued to sharpen my blade. My own eyes were more useful to me on watch than their crazy and outlandish traps. It seemed to waste time when we wanted to move on the next day, but they insisted, and I continued to ignore it.
As we continued on, the stench of blood and death reached me, causing me to hold my weapons tighter. The town left before burned and its people on pikes reeked of orcs, a smell that was hard to forget. We searched the town for survivors, but nothing remained, even the shrine was left in ruins. Something told me that this was more than just orcs, something more was going on, but there was no time to think as the sound of drums echoed on the air. Orcs were known to come back to the crimes, but it seemed our party didn't know and our time here had been too long.
Blessed by the Hydra King
18 Spring's Noon, 300 E.A.
The rainy weather and being in desperate need of a shower will never keep me from writing about one hell of a day. I last left my scribbles with the prospect of sacrificing a magic item to the demi-god hydra Syracuse. While the others were hesitant, my path was already chosen. The goddess rewards her hunters, through strength and luck from her gifts we prosper, but our gifts of strength and endurance sometimes come from other places. I did not know what sacrificing my bag of holding would bring, but if anyone could deal with a demi-god, I assumed a diplomat of the Llanowar clan could.
With our items left to dust on the altar, he offered us a deal, something so simple, it was nearly impossible to say no. He would help us, if only we helped him. Leave the shrine open to worshippers and we would find ourselves blessed by the hydra king. Go back on our word, and we would find ourselves cursed. It was a simple deal, but the Dragonborn seemed more interested in writing out a contract instead of taking the word of the hydra king. Their dealings showed a lack of people's knowledge of divinity. A being of pride and greed would not go against his word, but yet no one believed that.
A final confirmation of our deal brought with it a sense of pride as the skin of my back crawled. Watching the fur of the tabaxi change colors in the same place, I knew that my skin would be adorned with the markings of the hydra, etched into my skin the color of hydra scales. With it came power, a power that would be beneficial to the likes of a raging barbarian. It was a blessing that would aid a hunter, and a hunter I would be.
Once our blessings were secured, the ceiling above rumbled and scattered dust as the rotting corpse of the ancient hydra fell through, along with the cleric and the warlock. Syracuse had left us, but his part of the deal had been fulfilled. From here, it was our turn to please the demi-god.
The fight started, weapons slashing and the green glow of my rage lit the area around me as my face twisted into the snarl of grandfather's wolf totem. The water elementals summoned by the cleric bothered me little as I slashed through them and eventually made my way to the cleric. My strength did not falter as I grappled him, holding him still as the rest of the party continued fighting.
Taking a high powered spell at close range is something that no one ever wants, but I survived the cleric's terrible inflict wounds. But from there, the battle and its resulting ending seem fuzzy. My blessing saved me, but it does not fix hurt pride or sore limbs. We returned to Barkest in desperate need of a shower and rest. Tomorrow we would decide our next steps, but for now, it was time for a well-deserved rest.
My Type of Divinity
18 Spring's Noon, 300 E.A.
While I may not have the divine power of a cleric or paladin, the Huntress always rewards her hunters. As we opened the door and began the descent into whatever madness that Cross had sent us to, we prayed. We prayed to our gods for different things, asking for help and luck. The cat even found faith in the depths of a waterlogged dungeon. I didn't pray for luck, Llanowars don't ask for luck, we ask the Huntress for a good hunt, and no matter the feeling of calmness or nothingness that comes after our prayer, the hunt will be a good one.
The puzzles of the dungeon were here long before Cross had come the first time, so at least he gave us the solutions. We opened the doors quickly, jumping in and following the feeling that the cleric got from the dragon god. The cat was very put out by walking through the water, but I tried not to laugh as I moved first, standing in front of them like Reinys had asked.
As the water ran down one ramp and into a small room, the electric feel of my skin charged, a feeling of excitement that came before a fight. A small hydra lay in the corner, and for once it seemed that the party wished to fight. A clay pot of oil shattered against the creature as I threw it, and from there, the others joined in with their fire.
The battle was quick and I saw no need to tap into the bubbling rage that was also so close beneath the surface. I hacked with my blade and when the inspiration struck, I punched at the last head, watching as the shape crumpled to the floor. The others looked on in awe. Not many can say they have killed a hydra and even fewer still can say that they have punched one to death.
From there the water flowed into a whirlpool that we could only assume was a drain. It fell to me to dive into the pool, tied with a lifeline. But once under, I quickly realized that the lifeline holding me was only hindering me. I untied myself and dove deeper, following the natural walls of the tunnel to a room where seven hydras and their fangs awaited me. The statues seemed to be another puzzle, one that I was sure I could solve.
As I swam up for breath, I scared a fumbling dragonborn as he flailed in the dark water. I raised my head above the swirling pool, took a breath, and dove back in, not bothering to fill in the others. With some coordination, eventually, we figured out the puzzle of the hydra statues, but not before I realized that our group was lacking in culture. So few of us spoke Elvish and the puzzle took far longer than necessary, but now we found ourselves faced with another question.
A pillar stood for sacrifices, items left for Syracuse, the demi-god of the hydras. I did not know what the others would choose, but my choice was made.
My Turn
17 Spring's Noon, 300 E.A.
I hate to say I was excited when Reinys came to me after their show at the lord's castle, but that's exactly what I was. The weariness on her face as she walked close told me everything I needed to know and I was saying yes before she could even ask the question. She was tired, tired of the weight and pressure that dragged at her shoulders and her mind. Paladins were strong folks, especially those of the North, but this was different and I couldn't turn her away when she needed the help.
People say that barbarians are ruthless and heartless, but they've never met the Llanowars if that's all they can say. I stepped into the role of a leader, a role that a paladin with decades of experience on me, couldn't handle. But like Miz always says, fuck 'em. They didn't deserve someone that would easily give their lives to save someone's sorry ass. So now it's my turn, and the barbarian always stands in front.
Within a few minutes of taking over, possibly before the sorry state of our party realized it, I was walking our sorry asses to the castle for not only payment, but for Cross. From what Reinys had said, the bloodsucker had saved their asses and the party couldn't be bothered to move very fast to go see him. If nothing else, I was going to hear what he had to say so we could move on from this damned town.
Prep for the trip was slow. Grandfather would have asked if we were waiting for the next winter with as long as it took us to toss some things into a bag. I lightened my pockets and weighted my back, gladly taking the beautiful black sword that Reinys had been given. It felt balanced in my palm, an extension of my body that I hadn't felt since I had held the blades of the Drow in my hands in the Underdark so long ago.
While I did hate leaving Miz with the others, she was glad that I was taking my constant "bitching" with me. I knew that even with my sword and axe removed from the party, that the Northerners and Miz that had become like siblings over the last few weeks would be safe and well-led as Reinys regained her somewhat shattered confidence.
The goblins from my security mission a few weeks back were merely a footnote in our travels for the day. I didn't really care about any of it, as long as my blade met flesh and bone. I needed the stretch of lithe muscles moving heavy weapons. It was glorious! I'm excited for the rest of our travels and the chance at fighting a hydra.
Enter the Guild
15 Spring's Morning, 300 E.A.
Our arrival in Stronghold was a long-awaited one. We arrived late in the evening, heading towards the Shattered Bone Inn after getting directions. The Dagger Guild had been a constant story during our travels, we felt it best to check it out as soon as we arrived. We were greeted by a tiefling, a sorceress guessing by her dress. That's when I heard a name I hadn't heard in a very long time.
Ylyndar. The Ylyndars of the north were known as proud paladins, protecting the border from the giants. I remember the name from my travels with my grandfather, but the face of the girl who's name it was seemed even more familiar. The pale skin was something from the past, but the way she carried herself and the markings on her face were new. I remembered her younger, but she moved with a grace now that was befitting of a barbarian.
Reinys and I spoke quickly. It seemed they were forming a party within the guild and were recruiting members. I jumped on the opportunity to join her, although Miz was more reluctant. Reinys' soft words easily convinced Miz, it was odd how quickly the dark elf changed her mind. But as the party set off without Reinys, I joined while Miz to stay behind.
The group had been chasing cultists and we found ourselves in the sewers, knee-deep in shit. The odd-looking rogue used me as a mount, climbing on my back to see ahead. I didn't mind the company, but I realized quickly that this party was a band of misfits, with Reinys as its leader.
We stumbled through part of the cultists' lair when we found it, but it wasn't long before the others were tired and battered. They chose to return to the tavern, which I thought was best. Most of them weren't cut out for fighting, they could barely traverse the path to the lair without hurting themselves. I recounted the events to Reinys, she laughed at her fledgling group. It was a mash-up of very different people and backgrounds, but both of us were too used to that. I was glad I had joined her, Miz and I had a home for our travels. While we had our duties to our families, it seemed that this was the freedom we all had been searching for.
From the Spine
1 Winter's Evening, 299 E.A.
While this wasn't my first time away from the Spine, it was the first time either Miz or I had been so far away from home without either her father or my grandfather. The two men had more trade routes to run, making it impossible for them to make the journey to Stronghold to gather more goods or make better deals. So they sent Miz and I, away from the Spine and out of the Underdark to the capital of the Human Empire, just so they could make a quick buck.
I was glad for the travel. I had stopped having things to read being stuck in our camps in the Spine. Miz's book was worn, almost illegible in places where I had rubbed the pages thin. It was a surprise to me when I found out she was traveling with me, but I welcomed the company of her and Belwar, her squirel-like companion. She could teach me her language as we traveled, passing the many days to Stronghold quickly.
Miz was a good friend, although time in her company was often spent silent. We came from very different worlds, her skin dark, much like the place she came from. That hadn't stopped us from becoming friends through my many visits to the Underdark. I just had never expected her to travel across the surface.
But her travels on the surface seemed to be an exile of sorts. She didn't speak much of it, becoming very tight-lipped and almost angry when I tried to ask why she had come with me. Her lavender eyes burned with a fire uncommon in her dark elf peers, it scared me as much as it thrilled me.
While we were both diplomats, we were also trained fighters, although in different disciplines. We chose to spar while we traveled, attempting to pass the time more quickly. While drow were welcome in most places, Miz always kept us from towns in favor of the deep growth of the forest. It was fine for me, I had never spent much time in a city, let alone a large one, so the solitude of the forest was more like home.
From the Spine we went, but to the Spine we might not return. While this was a business trip, we very well may choose to travel the world, sending our answers on the backs of creatures instead of our own tongues. What better pair to travel the world than a dark elf and her barbarian.
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