~PC Bios~
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Theona’s Bio

Theona, image (c) Kristin Johnson

Theona Galanodel is a moon elf of 131 years, who has spent most of her life in Silverymoon.

Theona does not consider herself a thief, but more of an equalizing force. To her mind, it’s not stealing if you are taking items from someone or something undeserving and giving the object to the people to which it belongs. Theona keeps her ears open for news of elven artifacts in particular, and will often join up with a group of like-minded individuals heading into local ruins if there is any mention of such items. Her sense of justice makes sense, in a way, as her own family at one time possessed a magical sword that had been passed through many generations (and elven generations— quite a long time indeed!) and lost or stolen somewhere between the fall of Ascalhorn (Hellgate Keep) and her ancestors’ arrival in Silverymoon; she has hopes of one day finding and claiming it, as it will only show its full potential when in the hands of one of her family, of which she is the last. Her biggest concern at the moment is the large amount of “retired” Zhents moving into the area.

She enjoys living in Silverymoon in spite of her lack of magical or musical aptitude, and so many interesting things have been happening in the past few years that she stops actively searching for her ancestral blade for years at a time. Hopefully though, she’ll have many more years to continue her search.

Character sheet: Theona Galanodel [Moon Elf Rogue]

Posted by Kristin on January 2, 2004, 17:50

Areon’s Bio

Areon, image (c) Kristin Johnson

Areon was born in the Moonwood, though none of his memories actually take place there. His parents moved north to the Cold Wood very shortly after he was born.

Not long after settling in the Wood, the Elauwit family was attacked by a large band of orc raiders. Though both of Areon’s parents fought valiantly, killing dozens of orcs between them, the orcs were too many. If not for the Uthgardt hunting party that heard the commotion and intervened, the Elauwit line surely would have ended.

The Elauwit family and the Uthgardt tribes have been very cooperative with each other since that day. Dimore has helped to train rangers and scouts for the Uthgardts and the Uthgardts have helped to train Areon to fight orcs. Though the Elauwits are followers of Solonor Thelanria, Areon’s time with the Uthgardts has taught him much of their religion. He has adapted many of the Uthgardts teachings to supplement his religion.

While Areon was being trained, a raiding party of orcs overran a small hunting party of Uthgardts, slaughtering them. Areon disappeared into the woods when he heard the news. No one saw him for two weeks, and the worst had been assumed. When he returned, he carried over his shoulder a sack filled with the heads of seven orcs, one for each member of the hunting party killed.

The Uthgardts promised to create for him a weapon of his choice. Areon asked for a greatsword, which drew much amusement from the Uthgardts. They wondered, “How could the small elf, only a little over five feet tall, wield a sword longer than he was tall?” Areon quietly accepted the sword and returned home.

A few weeks later an orc raiding party attacked the camp during the night. Though the orcs were driven away, they managed to loot much of the camp during the battle. The next morning the Chief found that the tribe’s lineage records, which were carved into a large silver sculpture of a tiger, had been stolen.

Areon volunteered immediately to go and find them, knowing that the Uthgardt rangers were needed to stay to help hunt for food and track Orcs. The Uthgardts accepted his offer gratefully, presenting him with a holy symbol that would help protect him in his quest.

Areon’s mother gave him a blank spell book before he left and asked that he
keep a log of his travels in it. She explained that should the unthinkable happen to him, the book would teleport itself back to her.

For 3 months now Areon has been searching for the totem. He has hunted down many orcs, interrogating each victim before they die. His search has led him to Silverymoon, where he believes the totem is going to be sold, or worse. He hopes to find it before to long so he can return home.

Character sheet: Areon Elauwit [Wood Elf Ranger]

Posted by Tim on January 2, 2004, 17:54

Deitricha’s Bio

Deitricha, image (c) Kristin Johnson

Born in Silverymoon, Deitricha’s parents are scholars. Her father is a tutor, her mother, a librarian. Of nine children, she is lucky number seven, and therefore encouraged to think of the church. She has been a cleric of Tymora for a few years, and helped defend the Silver Marches, but now Deitricha is growing curious about other parts of the world. She is book-learned, but only just beginning much practical experience.

Character sheet: Deitricha Gerhardt [Human Cleric]

Posted by Kate on January 2, 2004, 17:59

Tyan’s Bio

Tyan and Glitch, image (c) Kristin Johnson

Pulling my numb left arm out from under some debris, I finally had the chance to raise my body off of the cavern floor. My right arm was not as fortunate, for the deep gashes and dagger sunk to the hilt left it wracked in pain. The smoke biting at my eyes made me wonder if the fireball worked... or was I in the Nine Hells were I probably belonged?

With great effort I reached the sitting position and surveyed my surroundings. As I watched the still twitching leg of the nearest hobgoblin I came to two conclusions. One, I was still in the cavern; two, I don’t think I can hear anything. I tried my best to wipe the smoke infused sweat from my eyes. That’s ok, more pain helps me focus. I looked around for any of my comrades Rugar, Bathen, Trunks or Vlor. Truth be known I had not had the time to notice if they were even still fighting in this part of the lair. Having found myself swarmed by the enemy, taking shots from every direction I had little choice but drop a fireball on myself and hope to survive it.

After pulling a few crude arrows from my left thigh and hip, I found I still was able to stand. Up and moving it felt good, getting the blood moving is always a good feeling. Surveying the carnage around me I was pleased to not see any of my friends. This meant they could still be alive. Making sure my foes were permanently down, I walked among the bodies rubbing my ears hoping it would help my hearing, and used a longsword I had found on the floor to make sure at least these minions of Kurent would no longer bother anyone.

The new ringing in my ears told me I may soon have use of my ears again; this was good for I had surveyed my gear and decided that being out of arrows and having busted my quarterstaff of the head of the first hobgoblin I fought, I was truly in trouble. At least I had a few spells left at my disposal, but they were minor compared to the ones I had already spent. I came to the hall, the only way into this room, and the ringing in my ears turned from an inner pain to a new ringing, a ringing of swords. I worked my way down the hall towards the sound of battle using the walls to help keep me up, confident the enemy had not started fighting themselves.

Reaching a larger room I found a half-orc barbarian at the highest pitch of his rage. His orange eyes burned with a fire of anger and hatred that is rarely seen in this realm. The half-orc was bleeding badly and seem to be still standing more from an inner refusal to fall than actually having the strength. He fought with a greataxe that was nearly equal in size to its wielder. I caught a moment of eye contact with him, a moment where those burning orange eyes nearly made me turn and run from the room. Trunks acknowledged my presence with that quick glance, but swiftly turned back to the fight at hand for Trunks was surrounded by three of his most hated enemies - hobgoblins. The three foes were skilled and adept at fighting as a team, for they truly were getting the best of my friend.

Moving slowly into the room I took notice of the other two in the room: orcs. One seemed to be a cleric and the other a fighter. The two seemed happy to let their friends do the fighting, content to watch from a distance. This served me well as they were too entertained to pay attention to the hobbled sorcerer creeping up behind them. It seemed to take for ever but I did eventually reach my foes. If Trunks could see me, even in a rage he would have broken into a hearty laugh for I nearly mis-cast my spell due to the sneer I had on my face. For I hate few things more than orcs but orc clerics to the Great One Eye are very high on that list. Slowly I put my hands behind their heads and let loose magic missiles. As the sinew and bone flew from their skulls, mostly through their eyes, the two dropped to the floor. Stupid orcs.

To my good fortune the only one that heard the orc bodies hit the floor was Trunks who launched a furious attack to keep the hobgoblins too busy fighting to notice the death they would soon feel. Even though my body was still wracked in pain, I had plenty of life left in me, a fact the nearest hobgoblin soon found out. Using the sword I had found in the other room I put all of my strength into the lunge and sent the unaware fool to into the darkness of death.

This move proved that I am not skilled in hand to hand, the attack left me off balance and exposed, a fact one of the hobgoblins noticed as he brought his scimitar across my upper back, driving me to the floor and back into the dark dizziness and pain that I had so recently escaped. With the scimitar stuck in my shoulder blades, the attack on me left the hobgoblin open himself, and that left the opening for Trunks to finish him. This left Trunks one on one, and very few can stand one to one with Trunks. Then things began to turn black. A few minutes later Trunks was using a potion of healing to bring me around again. As its power brought my senses back to me, I noticed that Bathen our dwarven cleric had arrived and helped me more with his spells and a few prayers to Moridan. Not that I follow the God of the Forge, but I am no fool as to the power the great god.

Bathen informed us that my childhood friend Rugar had gone after our ranger Vlor. Vlor was going after Kurent the Red, the leader of a devious group of thugs that had been raiding caravans up and down the Sword Coast for some time. Normally this could be considered suicide for Kurent was well known for his skill in battle. Skills that had killed hundreds in the last few years alone. I almost felt sorry for him, Kurent has no chance against my half-drow friend Vlor. Vlor and his scimitars, is, in my opinion, the most dangerous man alive. And since Kurent had fled the cave, and my friends and I had eliminated his entire army of thugs, Kurent was alone.

We headed out for them; the trail was so obvious that even I could have followed it. The three of us arrived at the final battle in time to see Vlor toying with Kurent. Rugar had taken a seat on a fallen tree and was cheering on Kurent and snacking on an apple. Well, it was all in mockery, but after all that is what makes Rugar... Rugar, and our party leader. As we joined him on the tree Bathen called out for Vlor to gut him, and Trunks just begged to have his turn at the fight. Vlor just smiled at the gallery and actually took the time to bow to us at one point. Vlor is not an evil person, vain yes but not evil. After a few more moments of battle, he had tired Kurent enough to disarm him without harming him. Vlor pinned him to the ground and let Kurent know that his days of terror were over.

It was Vlor who had planned from the beginning to bring the brigand in alive and unharmed as possible. He wanted this cretin to face the families and friends of all those he had robbed and killed. Personally I don’t think it will mean anything to the fool; I have yet to see anyone truly feel sorry for their wrongs, no matter what they say while at carnival in Luskin.

That is the way I want to remember my friends, at their and our best. Those were good times when we were minor heroes to the coast. Before our fall from grace. Before we were framed for a murder we did not commit. Before we barely escaped with our lives from carnival. Before we split up and went different directions to increase our chance of finding a halfling named Cutro. Before I heard word that one of my friends my have been killed in Waterdeep. And before I found myself wandering into the town of Silverymoon, tired and hungry. I have exhausted all leads. Maybe I can find a group of adventurers who can use my help for a while. I need to build up my money, and traveling alone has gotten me talking to myself.

Character sheet: Tyan Broathfirst [Human Sorcerer]
Glitch [Rat Familiar]

Posted by Jim on December 28, 2004, 13:48

Ebin’s Bio

Ebin, image (c) Kristin Johnson

It was interesting for a human to grow up with elves. Ebin’s parents adventured with Aramil and Felosial Starsliver for several years until Ebin was born. Neither one of the foster parents talked about what happened and as Ebin grew he stopped asking. Ebin learned much from his elven parents, but like most humans, soon grew restless for adventures of his own. Joining the local militia was good for a while. It allowed him to learn how to defend himself and friends. He learned all he could until again he grew restless and yearned to see the world. Then he worked on a few caravans as a guard. It was a means of seeing new places, and meeting new people. However he would only sign up for one-way trips. He’d help get the caravan safely there, then collect his wages and join another caravan going someplace else. After a while this too got boring, so Ebin decided that a little freelance adventuring was a good idea. Being a sword for hire was nothing if not entertaining. At least until the last group he was with tried to kill him because he refused to be a part of a murder. The last Ebin saw of them was when he ducked out the back door of an inn almost 3 weeks southwest of where he is now.

Ebin had been in Yartar for about 3 days when the remains of a caravan showed up with a strange story of trolls, a druid and a dwarf with a bag of snakes. Ebin immediately gathered his things and was going to go out to investigate when someone in the inn mentioned it would be safer to go in a group. Counting Ebin there were 4 going, but not till morning. Although Ebin was anxious to go he decided that help would be best and, as patiently as he could, Ebin waited for morning. It took almost half a day to find the wreckage of the caravan, and the trail left behind was extremely obvious. After 2 days of following the trail it was obvious that there was more going on here than just caravan raiders.

Character sheet: Ebin Starsliver [Human Fighter]

Posted by Fred on June 4, 2005, 16:31