Olena

Olena Halline (a.k.a. Ol’ Hally)

Early Life

Olena was born and raised in the farming hamlet of Goldenfields. Her family, friends, and everyone she knew until she was 13, are farmers. When her entire world was farming, Olena found it impossible to imagine anything else. That was until a troupe of bards came into Goldenfields along the road from Alondis, trading songs and hedge magic for food and shelter for the night. Olena's parents extended the hospitality of their hearth; and from the cracked edge of her bedroom door, Olena listened to their fanciful tales, lilting music, and caught flashes of the dancing lights of their tricks.
The itch was set. Farming no longer held her attention. Her mind wandered while sowing crops, milking cows, or any of the farm labours she now found dreary. Her siblings soon felt the extra weight of her lackadaisical attitude, and she often found herself at the end of their jibes, or her parent's exasperation. Eventually pressure from her siblings, discipline from her parents, and the relentless monotony of her life, saw Olena settle back into her old self. Although she never quite let go of her new love of music, singing, and the telling of improbable tales.
For her 15th birthday, her elder sister whittled her a flute. It was rudimentory, only played a handful of notes, and the reed was a twist of hay straw from the barn. Olena loved it, and with a proper instrument in her hands, she fell deeper and deeper into music. Most harvests, weedings, and sowings would be scored by some tune or song she was working on, drifting across the evening air. The Halline farm settled back into their normal life for a couple of years, albeit with their chores now scored, until Paeara came through the hamlet.

Setting Out

Paeara, like the gnome bards before her, arrived late in the day into Goldenfields on the main road, offering to trade labour and parlour tricks for food and shelter. Approaching from Aspenstop, the Halline homestead was the first she passed in the hamlet. Again the family extended their hospitality to a weary traveller. Unlike the gnomes, however, Paeara's profession lent itself more to slight of hand, cunning tricks, and acrobatic feats; her tongue was no less silver, though her tales were a little darker, a touch more salacious, a morsel more dangerous. Olena, being older now, sat up with her parents to watch Paeara's card tricks, and listen to these stories; and like a smouldering ember meeting fresh air, the yearning to travel, perform, and adventure was rekindled.
Olena resolved she would not spend another winter in Goldenfields. The following morning, she caught Paeara alone before she left, and asked after her plans, life on the road, the exploits and escapades one could expect, what should be brought. Paeara told her that it wasn't a life for everyone, but it definitely had it's exciting times, but that it could be hard alone; that it was far better to travel as a band. The money was split, sure, but you were safer, had more to offer when taking on work or trade, and company for the long stretches of countryside between jobs. Seizing the moment, Olena asked to accompany her on the road, but Paeara refused her. She had an important mission in Alondis, would be travelling hard, and couldn't babysit a new companion; but, in a season or two, she may be back this way and would consider it. Without a backward glance, Olena's chance at a new life walked out of Goldenfields away from her.
Olena felt she had missed her chance when the gnomes had come and gone; something, fate or Erathis, had given her a second chance. She wasnt going to give up again. She knew where Paeara was headed, she dashed back into the homestead, gathered her belongings, what ready food she could grab, scribbled a note for her family, and ran out onto the road north as quickly as she could. It took the better part of the day, pacing the road with her wide farmer's gait, but she caught up with Paeara by sundown. Finding her camped under a copse just off the road, cooking a chicken over a campfire, the light and smell drawing her in to sit by the fire before she realised she'd done it.

The Adventure Begins

Paeara had been half expecting her, she was a seasoned freelance scout, and Olena had been so focused on catching up to her that she hadn't given a second thought to concealing her pursuit. After a sheepish greeting, and the last dregs of water from her canteen, Olena pled her case. She was young, sure, but strong and hardy from farm work; and she could play the flute; and could handle herself in a scrap, you had to with so many siblings; and she could cook; and mend; and... Paeara cut her off before she could talk herself blue. A companion on the road never hurts, and if they didn't fit, she could always try her luck at the Alondis Adventurer’s Guild.
The journey to Alondis was relatively straightfoward, the road is well maintained, and traveled frequently enough that it never developed the real hazards that plague the mountain passes, back roads, and valleys of the far reaches of The Realm of Alondaeri. Paeara steered them round a goblin ambush, kept them upwind of a pack of wolves, and shoved Olena out of the way of a charging bear. For her part Olena cooked; sang and played her flute; and with a lucky swing of her mother's cleaver that she'd 'borrowed' on the way out the homestead, killed the bear before it could bite Paeara's leg off. The leg saving really cemented their friendship.
Alondis was a riot of sounds, smells, and people. Far more than Olena had ever experienced before. They kept to the shelltop, Olena being uncomfortable enough being offshore, and hating the idea of going below. While Olena played tourist in the big city, Paeara slipped off on this 'important mission' she'd never fully clued Olena in on, but when she returned, she had a bundle of wax sealed scrolls and two thick fur coats with her. She had a new job for them both, a simple courier job, up into the north of Alondaeri, and the very gums of Auril’s Teeth, to Fygate.
If the journey to Alondis was straightfoward and safe, the journey to Fygate was as far from that as Olena had ever experienced. A circuitus poorly maintained road took them around the dense forest west of Alondis, the older tracks through it now overgrown, and impassable for the voracious wildlife that stalked it's depths. Paeara and Olena fell into an easy pattern while traveling. Olena would ask questions, full of the hunger of youth until Paeara grew tired of answering; then they would walk in comfortable silence, or Olena would play her flute. They continued in this fashion, pausing for meals or to camp for the night; only breaking from the routine when circumstances or hazards demanded it.

Getting the Band Together

With the week drawing to a close, they arrived at Fygate, the cold mountain air cutting at Olena despite the coat that Paeara had secured for her back in Alondis. With the evening closing in around them, Paeara secured them a room at the Bloodied Shield, and left Olena there while she set off to deliver her messages. Unwilling to wait in their room with the delicious smells of dinner drifting up from below, Olena went down to the common room to find food, and if she was honest with herself, to gawp at the locals. The local tipple being a potent mead, far stronger than her mother's home brewed ale, is what led to Paeara returning to see Olena arm wrestling a half-orc twice her size while laughing uproariously.
This half-orc would turn out to be Munder, spending coin from his shift at the Thighgate; while admitadly modestly drunk, Munder hadn't expected to lose an arm wrestling match so handily, although the sudden jab of a flute under the table into his thigh hadn't helped. After the assorted patrons of the Bloodied Shield had settled their side wagers and drifted back to their own drinks, the human, the halfing, and the half-orc settled in and got to talking, drinking, and laughing (mostly at or with Olena, depending on who you ask). Talk drifted to the latest rumours in town, as Olena and Paeara being recently in Alondis held a certain cache, bringing the newest news with them. Olena gabbled at length about everything she'd thought important, her fanciful telling of the clothes she'd seen would upset the local fashions for a month before the next band of travellers passed through. Paeara was a little more guarded, swapping nuggets of anecodate for meatier stories from Munder of adventure and ghosts, looking for the next chance for her and Olena to earn some coin.
Unsurprisingly considering Munder's profession, his knowledge of the commings and goings in town, and who was deeply frustrated by one thing or another, was complete and recent. He offered to introduce the pair to a couple of prospective employers, on the condition he got a split of the pay. Olena brashly rejoindered that "if he wanted a share of the loot, he needed to do a share of the work"; Munder not wanting to be humiliated twice in one night drunkenly agreed, which is how he found himself playing, and occasionally being, the looming muscle of their band.

Bad Money for Old Rope

The three friends took jobs around Fygate, clearing up the towns 'to do' list quite nicely. Before long they'd rescued every missing cat, killed every giant rat, and fetched every reagent the town alchemist needed. Within short order, they had also drunk the majority of their rewards as well. With little opportunity to expand their loot, and Munder's landlord no longer willing to ignore late rent, the gang signed on as guards with Carson's Caravans.
Guard duty introduced them to Dydnousa and Rhegone; cousins seeking the same life of adventure that had seduced Olena. After a couple of seasons knocking back goblins and bandits from robing the caravan, the five of them were fast friends, working fluidly and watching each other's back without thinking.

Firebrands Impersonated

It was only when Olena and her friends visited The Cracked Cask, and a chance shout to Olena across the tavern floor for another round of ales by Munder led to Anundrir Kardsson mistaking her for Olwen Taleteller, that Olena realised they could be making good coin impersonating a more succseful adventuring party.
After this, they stopped taking bit jobs to clear out goblins from caves, and started taking credit for ending the Saltmarsh Riots, slaying a chimera, saving The Wave Dancers, and anything else that came up in conversation became a "oh yes, that was us, but let me tell you how it really happened" followed by reckless embelishment. They even joked amongst themselves that they should call themselves The Fyband, a mocking sendup of The Firebrands, all the more appropriate since they had got started in Fygate.
The act required certain theatrical tricks, Olena being human had to either cobble together semi-convincing half-elven features, usually hiding her ears in her hair; or when The Firebrands were less well known, simply explaining the inconsistencies away as the vagaries of rumour.

The Imposters Revealed

It was when the Firebrands were on their way to The Holy Dominion of Elanon, and had just arrived in Ardenfort, that the long con came to an end. Stopping into the mess hall for food and drink, the Firebrands were startled to hear tale of their exploits being sung by a red-haired half-elf standing on a table. When coin and drinks were brought forth to the Fyband, they were enraged. Olwen Taleteller convinced her friends to let her challenge these upstarts at their own game.
The two bards squared off across the hall, each pulling jibe and anecdote from their repertoire to snipe at the other. Olwen punctuating her truths with flourishes on her lyre, and Olena covering the falters in her lies with a leitmotif on her flute. After a cutting exchange of stanza and verse, and a final crucial stumble by Olena (claiming that rumours they had slain a Roc were a flight of fancy, a word play she was proud of until Olwen pulled out a great bloodstained feather to prove the lie) the Fyband were driven from the messhall, pursued by the jeers and tossed fruit of the patrons.
Since the revelation of their deceit, the Fyband have splintered; for her part Olena chose to remain in Ardenfort and take odd jobs for the soldiers stationed there until she can figure out what to do next. Captain LLalmowlynn has taken under her wing of late, but the adventurer life still appeals, and Olena is contemplating making the long journey to Alondis to sign up with the Adventurer's Guild in Alondis.

Mental characteristics

Gender Identity

Female, She / Her / Hers

Alignment

Neutral

Current Status

Nursing her wounded pride, redeeming her reputation

Current Location

Ardenfort

Species

Human

Church/Cult

Erathian Worship

Date of Birth

11-3-1467

Circumstances of Birth

A particularly harsh storm blew through the village, whistling melodically through the rafters of her parents home

Birthplace

Alondis

Current Residence

Ardenfort

Pronouns

She / Her / Hers

Gender

Female

Eyes

Soft, hazel, twinkle in the firelight

Hair

Ruddy brown, tousled

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Lightly tanned and weather bitten

Height

1.71 m

Weight

73 kg

Belief/Deity

Erathian Worship

Aligned Organization

The Fyband

Other Affiliations

• The Alondaeri Circle