The Lost Plane

Evaryn's Backstory
A Day in the Life

Slicing silently through the air, the arrow stayed true to its path through the underbrush and tall grasses. The tail fletching picks up small amount of morning dew from the grass as it clears the last of the brush and closes in on its target. The ears of the buck twitch slightly, not from any perceptible noise, but from a guttural instinct of danger. Eyes widened, the deer’s body twitches, and released a gasp of air, before hitting the forest floor. While slowly rising at the edge of the thicket, a figure in the shadows whispers reverently “Udanvgalvda adahisdi” meaning “A clean kill” in the tongue of his mother’s people. Slowly approaching the fallen beast, the figure walks into the light piercing the forest canopy. Drawing a curved dagger from his belt, he kneels next to the deer, gently but efficiently sliding the knife into the rib cage of the animal, extinguishing the last bit of life from the beast. Closing the eyes of his prey, Evaryn begins a small prayer “Walo Unali’i” “Thank you, friend” “Nihi adanedi sidanelvhi” “You give to my family” “Ayv vgalutsv nihi iyuqu uwagudisv” “As I will give to yours one day”.

He stands, unstringing his bow, and his memories take him back to his childhood and the many days he would spend in the woods, with his mother learning the hunt. She was of the druids to the west, one of their hunters, providing for the people of the tribe. Passing down more than the skill of the hunt, Evaryn learned rituals and customs and blessings of her people, forming a spiritual, some might say magical, connection with nature. Binding the legs of the beast, he carries it on his shoulders to his small campsite, and begins collecting the rest of his belongings. Relying on the land to provide his needs, he carries little more than an assortment of tools in his pack, the bulk of his gear being small shield emblazoned with a pair of wings, wreathed in flame, a falcata, and a small axe.

Hefting his pack and his slain prey onto his shoulders, he could hear his mother’s voice as if she were her with him. “You carry too much” she would admonish him “nature will provide what you need.” Unfortunately, experience taught him that run-ins with raiders, poachers, and unnatural creatures were not uncommon this close to the Divide. In those cases, having a sturdy shield, a sharp blade, and the training given to him by his father proved invaluable.

After walking for the better part of the morning, Evaryn finally sees the small grove of trees, molded into dwellings using the ancient human art of woodshaping. As he made his way through the underbrush, to the village several humans welcomed him home after a long hunt. Though he was half-elven, Evaryn never experienced distain from others in the village, despite his paternal linage. A human woman tending a small herb garden outside one of the treehomes smiles warmly at his approach. Lifting her head from her stooped position, she stands slowly, putting most of her weight on her good leg. "Oh little cub, Hurdak’s favor shines on you.”

His mother, Dianni examined the beast on Evaryn’s shoulders. Approving she says “A clean kill,” quietly, secretly she leaned in closer, “Your father would be proud of the man you’ve become.” He smiled, despite the missed emotions such a comment evoked him. Evaryn began to take the beast into his home to clean it, when the sound of a horn rang in the air to the east. Several shouts started to travel through town. “Raiders!” They all exclaimed. People began scurrying through town, leaving their daily activities behind, and quickly arming themselves. Men and women started carrying their weapons to the eastern edge of the village, through the thicket. Weapons for most of them consisted of bows and hunting implements, while some were more appropriately armed with combat gear. “Quickly! To the eastern meadows, rally the people!” Cried Evaryn’s mother. “I will gather the little ones and elderly, and take them into the deep roots.” Dropping the deer with a thud, Evaryn began sprinting eastwards, passing most of the others on the way.

Reaching the edge the eastern meadow, Evaryn found a large boulder to perch upon so he could survey the danger. From the east was a small patrol of elven slavers, looking for easy pickings just west of the Great Divide. Hearing the villagers approach behind him Evaryn signaled for them to remain low and hidden behind underbrush at the edge of the meadow. Muttering a few syllables of a hymn he remembered from childhood, felt magic begin to flow into his vocal chords, usually used by his father for leading musical services, Evaryn found immensely useful for shouting into the distance. Wanting the day not to be stained by bloodshed, he began to bellow, unnaturally loud. “Halt and come no further! You will find no easy prey here, slavers!” The patrol paused, surprised by the command. Evaryn waited, as did the rest of the villagers, to see the elven slavers’ response.

An answer came quickly, as a crossbow bolt, loosed by the leader, bounced off the rock near Evaryn’s feet. And the elves began their march onward. “Very well.” The half-elf shouted to the raiders. “You shall see the might of our people and our forest!” Now the elves were within firing range, Evaryn motioned for the people to begin a volley. All the towns people began loosing arrows, spears, and rocks, towards the elven caravan. The elves began returned the fire in kind, and began closing on the edge of town faster. Evaryn jumped down from the rock, landing in a kneeled position. Digging his fingers into the dirt, he began chanting a druidic prayer. Soon the grass beneath the feet of the elves began to grow into vines, attempting to entangle the raiders and slow their progress. Evaryn began peppering the raiders with arrows of his own, dropping more than a few elves.

As the elves continued to close, he dropped his bow, and took up his shield and falcata, a curved sword traditional to the elves that were approaching. Using the only physical reminders of his fateher, he began tapping his sword on his shield rhythmically, and chanting with the beat, an aura began to emanate from his sounds and cover the militia behind him, who began taking up melee arms in preparation for battle. Evaryn then lead the charge of the militia into the raiders, using the agility of the forest, and battle tactics of the people…

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Idaria back-story
A night in the life.

Idaria kept one eye on the sleeping form as she dressed. While the draining spell she’d cast on him would keep him in a deep sleep, he would awaken at a loud noise. It wasn’t a very good spell, but then she wasn’t very good at casting. That tended to happen when you had to teach yourself.

Confident that her suitor was out for a while, she slipped through the darkened halls of the run-down mansion. The house had been built long before candles were feasible, and the large windows had been positioned to let in as much moonlight as possible, making her footing sure and path clear. Paint was peeling off the bare walls, all the artwork having been sold years ago. The worn stone floor was icy, but silent as she strode through the empty halls, her long skirts swishing quietly around her. She knew he was too poor for servants, so she didn’t bother hiding. The once imposing mansion was the last relic of a line long bereft of greatness. But it wasn’t his wealth Idaria was after.

Ayathor collected and sold old books, specifically spellbooks and journals of the great Magi of other races. He was no one of importance, really, as few people in this city cared about magic. In fact, even with her love of magic, Idaria would never have set her sights on him at all, preferring to deal with bigger, wealthier fish. But she had information regarding an assassination attempt planned for that very night. Dathon, one of the more powerful Guild leaders, wanted Ayathor dead, quickly, and Idaria wanted to know why.

She slipped into his workshop and found the journal easily, sitting on top of a stack of letters. “Idiot,” she muttered as she sat in the chair and propped her feet on the desk. She began to flip through the book, skimming for any words that jumped out at her. His handwriting was sloppy and almost illegible, and it took her half an hour to find what she was looking for.

“My dear mister Ayathor, we have been up to something, haven’t we,” she murmured softly. It was evident that Ayathor was, as she had suspected, blackmailing the wealthy Guild leader for money in exchange for silence. He mentioned intercepting letters proving an alleged plot by Dathon to take over as Grandmaster.

The Guild was essentially an organization of the finer thieves, companions, and assassins that, supposedly, protected each other. She didn’t trust the Guild, and though she had been threatened several times, had never joined. Still, she knew it was powerful, and she knew when to keep her head down.

Idaria read the journal carefully, memorizing the details before placing it carefully on the desk. She was more careful than Ayathor, and had no intention of blackmailing the Guild head. She wasn’t stupid, though, and if she played her cards right, this information meant guaranteed protection.

Still, there was more to be gained here before she left. Lifting one of the older tomes, she blew off its blanket of dust and began to carefully read through it. The book was for more advanced magic than she was capable of, but she managed to find one charm on her level. It made the caster unseen, though not invisible; anyone looking on would simply want to look elsewhere, and not notice the caster.

She spent three hours practicing, waiting for that feather-light full-body tingling, like goose-bumps, that meant a enchantment had been cast successfully. The magic she dealt in was cast not through chants and wand waving, but will-power and focus. You had to learn what a spell felt like, and then recall the feeling to cast it again. That was the hardest part, the learning. She could usually learn simple charms, but not always.

Before she left the house, she performed the draining hex again, so that at least he could die painlessly in his sleep. She made sure she used her new camouflage enchantment as she slipped out the back door, and pretended not to notice a shadow that moved along the walls and slipped in through a window.

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