Born on a cold day in Abadius, the 23rd, I was the third of seven. I always loved animals and as I grew I would often take it upon myself to feed and take care of them. My family had several, a few horses to pull the wagons, guard dogs to help protect us as they traveled from town to town, a few pet cats, and even some livestock, chickens and such, to help keep us well fed. Financially life was very good. Father was very skilled at crafting magical items, and loved to give us the very best. We would want for nothing. Mother was rather well known for Harrow reading, and in every town they set up a shop in she would constantly be doing a reading for someone or other.

Growing up was interesting. Every few months we packed up everything and moved to another town. Some were very large, and other barely had fifty people living there. I occasionally got bored and would end up in my father’s things playing around with some of his crafting materials. He didn’t like that very much and often punished me on the occasions he caught me. It was no surprise to anyone when I started casting spell at 8 years old. It was a good life, I meet a lot of people and learned much about the world.

When I turned 20 mother told me about a reading she gave me when I was born. Apparently it said that I was to leave the family and go off on my own for a while exploring the world. My birth tattoo is supposed to lead the way, but I still don’t know where. I don’t tell anyone about it, so only my family knows, and I don’t know where in this world the map is of. It’s an overland map depicting a few ruins surrounded by a great forest. There appears to be a few small villages on the edges of the map, but unfortunately there are no names on the map. Before I left my family, only two months ago, they made sure I had plenty to help me. At my father’s orders I took Dorin, one of the guard dogs, with me and a pouch full of gold along with some of my personal possessions. Of course, Marduzi is at my side and has been for almost five years now. Amazing creatures bats are;, I don’t know where I’d be without him.

So here I sit in in this tavern having just finished my breakfast, Dorin laying at my feet and Marduzi hanging on my shirt hiding under my cloak. My boots are fully broken in now and my vest is starting to fade. As practical as this outfit is I do miss the vibrant colors of my old cloths. I do love this wide brim hat, keeps the sun from burning my face and the rain from completely drenching me.

One more thing before I go, and it’s a question I’ve been asking my self these last two months: where am I supposed to go?

Character sheet: Zandu Netem [Human sorcerer from Varisia]

Cause of death: cheese.
Cause of death: exploding lighthouse.
Cause of death: smooshed by a hill giant after removing his armor and leaping out from behind a tree.
Cause of death: a big hug from a shoggti (demonic outsider).
Cause of death: cast lightning bolt at lich, and received fireball in return.
Cause of death: fighting a demon unarmed or armored.
Cause of death: finding out just how angry fire makes trolls.
Cause of death: dire boar searching for the chewy nougat center.
Cause of death: dropped below zero by a Cone of Cold spell.
Cause of death: he touched the altar anyway.
Cause of death: rolling down stone steps to retrieve lantern, catching on fire, being attacked by undead, eventually being rendered unconscious. Mercy killing by party member.
Cause of death: TPK by a chuul while trying to impress the troglodytes.
Cause of death: killed by Sanura’s doppelganger while remaining party watched.
Cause of death: bled out amidst a pile of healing potions, five feet from party members.
Cause of death: really big explosion.
Cause of death: strangled, crushed, swallowed whole, and then digested by the Hive Mother of the Monster the DM Made Up himself.
Cause of death: lit self on fire while being devoured by scarab beetles.
Cause of death: other.

2001-2008

When I was younger, I used to hide my ears. In our steading where at least seven people had lycanthropy, I worried about looking different. To be truthful, I didn’t look all that different from the other villagers— red hair, green eyes, and among the tall Ulfen, my elven heritage didn’t stand out much. I felt different though, and would pick fights with anyone that even looked my way for too long. My mother, an elf called Maeva, had disappeared when I was just a wee lass, most likely in a raid— those happened all too often. The only thing I remember of her is a beautiful voice and a few snippets of ballads she would sing when we were alone. I got my love of singing from Maeva; my passion for fighting from my father Asmund.

After my mother disappeared, Asmund did his best raising me alone. He began to teach me to swing a sword that was longer than I was tall, and I grew accustomed to wearing armor at all hours as well— we just never knew when the ice trolls or evil fey would attack our home. He also told me more of the lands beyond our steading so that I would know why we fight. For a long time, I had nightmares about the White Witches in the lands to the east of us. Actually, I still do. I stopped picking fights with others of my clan, and with quiet resolve, focused on keeping out creatures that would try to harm them instead.

Although life was hard, I had intended to stay with my father’s people, and even had a prospective mate who did not mind my pointed ears. Ulfhrafn was a fosterer to our steading from near Trollheim that went out on a hunt and never returned. Lest you think it had something to do with me, no one from that hunt returned, including my father. That was two years ago.

Weeks later, Asmund’s claymore was found several miles from the border of the neighboring kingdom of Irrisen. It was returned to me and I have carried it in battle since.

I learned during a raid of our own homestead by ice trolls, when our clan’s skald was slain, that I had a talent for singing and took up the cry. Suddenly, my years of silence fell away and I found my voice— recalling the ballads I’d heard as a wee thing and singing with a voice that scarcely sounded like my own. The results were enough to rally my clan and turn the tide of the battle.

I finally realized I had achieved the acceptance of my father’s people, and a great weight was lifted. Well, half of a great weight, at least. I could have stayed; I may go back, once I learn to accept myself.

Character sheet: Astrid Steelheart [Half-elf bard from the Lands of the Linnorm Kings]

Cause of Death: Sneaky troll.