I don’t know why I feel compelled to write down my life; maybe it will help Zym, maybe it will help me, but it must be told.

At the age of ten, Ronyá was on a fishing trip with his father. On their return, they found an orc war party outside of their village. Dad was part of the town guard, and sent his son to get aid as he went to alert the village, but the orcs killed almost everyone. Ronyá went to Eliastraee’s temple for help; they came, but were too late. Ronyá found his dad headless.

He went to live at the temple. One of the drow priestesses took him in like a son; she also had a son that was a toddler. She taught Ronyá the language of Undercommon, and how to survive. Everything was good for five years. He learned to be a fighter, he frolicked, he fished, and he also grew attached to Zym, Shandel’s true son. Then, horror came back into his life.

One day while he and Zym were fishing, the orc war band attacked the temple. When they returned, they found the temple on fire. Ronyá hid Zym, then ran into the burning temple. Yelling for Shandel, he navigated the burning halls to get to the sanctuary. There, what he found still wakes him from his sleep in cold sweats.

Upon entering the chamber, he saw slaughtered men, women, and children all about, some burning, some headless. The altar was desecrated. He yelled out, “Shandel!” ...no one answered. He yelled, “Eilistraee, help me!” then heard a groan coming from near the altar.

He went over to the corner, only to see Shandel, the one he called Mother for years, lying with her gut slashed open, her entrails falling out, trying to call to him. Ronyá rushed to her side, not knowing what to do.

“Ronyá... you are safe. Where is Zym?”

“He is hiding,” replied Ronyá.

“Keep him safe.....” she said, as the life oozed out of her body. “Love, laugh, and live,” said the holy symbol on her neck. Ronyá took that symbol and rushed to Zym as the fire engulfed the temple.

As Ronyá emerged from the inferno of what used to be the temple, Zym was standing there, looking at an orc that was about to cut him down. He yelled, “Ronyá!” With that, Ronyá leaped at the orc in an instant. He pulled his kukri and slashed the throat of the orc. Dropping his axe and clutching his throat, the orc dropped to his knees. Ronyá stood and watched as the orc bled to death. Zym also watched the orc.

Ronyá looked the dead orc over; he found a symbol on his tunic and memorized it. Then, Ronyá grabbed Zym and ran to their safe place, a cave in the hills close to the temple. There they spent the night. Neither could sleep, so they talked. They have never told anyone what was said. In the morning, they set off to find the carriers of the symbol.

Ronyá hires himself out as a mercenary.

Character sheet: Ronyá [Human Fighter]
Zym [Half-Drow Child]

Cause of deaths: Newly recruited into Pommeville’s town guard.

Tonight was a very frightening experience for me; it was the first time that I saw the dead walk. I had heard of the dead walking before, but I thought that was just what they told bad kids to scare them. But tonight not only did the dead rise, but they also fought.

It happened at what I could tell was midnight. Zym and I were praying to the Dark Maiden when we heard warning horns. I opened the door to my room at the inn when I saw other patrons in the hall. They must have heard the horns as well, without a word we all rushed out of the inn. I followed them ‘cause it appeared that they had done this before. We rushed through the village, then we came around a building and there in the distance was something that made me stop in my tracks. The dead had arisen. So I did what any sensible man would have done— I took a long toke off of my pipe. As I stood there trying to believe my eyes, the other people that I ran there with jumped into battle. How can you kill something that is already dead? That was the questions that I was pondering.

“Zym, hide!” As he ran off, I put the pipe away and ran into battle, not knowing how to kill the dead but attempting to help anyway. They were hard to drop but one by one they did, but as some dropped more waves kept coming. How long could we fight? The others that were there kept fighting but it seemed in vain. Then this sickly green sun appeared out of nowhere. The bodies walked right through it. That was enough for me— I had to regroup to figure out my next move. So I retreated back out of what looked like a cemetery but there were people still fighting so I mustered up all my courage, took another toke, and ran back for more. As I laid into the undead, I stood beside a stout dwarf that helped me fight. The waves of undead seemed endless so we decided to fall back to the temple to regroup. The dwarf helped me retreat as I called for Zym. He came running. I scooped him up and ran for the temple. Arriving at the temple we went inside. “Zym we are safe for now!” But, for how long? I need to smoke.