Four Feather's Journal
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Four Feather’s Bio

Four Feather was born into a normal Wood Elf family of rangers, living an unremarkable life until the summer of her 68th year. In that fateful year her family and home were taken from her by an Orc uprising. Four Feather and her uncle Silver Hawk were the only survivors. Her mother gave her life to save her, taking a blade meant to pierce Four Feather’s heart. Her father was the first to die, trying to fend of the Orcish forces, hoping his companions could get back to warn the town. She would be dead if not for the heroic efforts of her uncle who broke down a burning wall to pull her out. Together they fled into the night. When Silver Hawk finally stopped to tend to his niece’s wounds, he nearly fainted from the sight.

Four Feather’s face was badly scarred from the flames. For a moment he thought of killing her, so she would not have to live a life with that face, but mercy soon filled his heart. Over the years the two kept themselves secluded, Silver Hawk fashioned a mask to cover the upper part of her face to hide her scars. He taught her of the ranger ways and of right and wrong. He taught her to hide, and fight, to read tracks and find healing plants. For many years things were good.

One day in her 76th year, Silver Hawk’s friend Coho (an Osprey), delivered a message to him. He never told his niece what that message was, only that he had to leave, and if he did not return in two weeks, to head east until she reached the Elven Nation of Celene, and stay there, for he would be dead.

After two weeks when he hadn’t returned, she knew what to do. She gathered up her belongings and went looking for her uncle, or those who killed him.

Cause of death: should have played dead, but stabbed upwards at an orc standing over her fallen body in battle.

Posted by Jim on January 7, 2003, 20:16

The Trail of Fools

After following this group for a couple days, I concluded they were not to blame for my uncle’s trip. And I also discovered strange murders had been going on north of Smallville, and they needed to be stopped.
I decided numbers may be needed and joined the group I had been following. Due to the fact that I had the opportunity to watch them for a few days, I decided not to let the group be at my back if trouble came. I still am not sure the two arrows the one received in the rear were accidental, if they were, this group may be more dangerous to themselves than to anyone else.

Travels 1
As we journey north, things have been as expected, with only a small experience with some large spiders. While my arrows flew true, and the dwarf’s axe stood proud, the others have proven themselves dangerous in combat. Not to the spiders, no, to the party. The one from the bar in town (that I have always expected to be a few arrows short of a full quiver) has decided that combat consist of throwing his weapon into the woods. And walking alone unarmed into the night while a threat still exists.
Fortunately the leader of this group is a woman. Heaven forbid if they had let one of the men lead, they would be charging naked into a dragon’s den if a man was leading. She is also the offspring of an honorable man who has helped keep the village of Smallville safe for many years.

Travels 2
We have left the safety of the woods, soon I will have travelled farther than ever before. In true dwarf standard our leader is almost glowing with happiness, due to all the rock about.

Travels 3
ORCS! We have found a totem marking their territory. My blood is boiling with rage. Despite the threat to my backside, I have decided to travel near the front. I will let the weapon tosser stay in front of me, he is very dangerous.
Strange though, this map they follow takes them into a place they would never go otherwise. It looks and smells like a trap. I guess that means we all are on a trail of fools.

Posted by Jim on January 14, 2003, 20:15