The Story Of Bigzid

Clan Phiff was one of the largest and oldest Dragonborn tribes that had settled in the mountains north of Erenon after the Loosening that had freed them of their full-size dragon overseers. Known for their acid breath, Bigzid's line had held their territory for ten generations. Through guile and providence, they held a pinch point in the mountains where they would raid passersby and, as they became more civilized, traded with them. A settlement with three or four larger buildings with defensible gates slowly began to take foothold. The Dragonborn clans evolved into a strict patriarchy and the Phiff family was no exception.

Leadership in the family meant chieftainship of the town, and Bigzid was the second son to Tyee Ickfam, the current chief of Phifferary. Bigzid's elder brother had been born mentally handicapped, subject to fits, and was rarely to be seen in daylight. This might have been an easy succession for
Bigzid, but Ickfam had siblings and thus cousins arrived.

Molzahn was thought initially to suffer from the same mania as Gix, Bigzid's elder brother; he'd killed and eaten most of his litter mates when the opportunity arose. The difference, however, was that Gix didn't have the mind to wait until he was unwatched. Molzahn, ambitious from the beginning, was eldest of Ickfam's sister and possibly illegitimate as there were questions as to how her elderly husband could manage to sire children in his ill health. Molzahn, after coming of age, sought after the "prize of the mountain passes" -- a cold-breather from House Ouroborus named Llyra and a prize coveted by Bigzid as well.

Naturally, Molzahn and Bigzid both feuded over the hand of Llyra. These clashes grew increasingly bitter as they grew older and their enmity divided the tiny colony. There were those who cheered Molzahn's victory at all costs and envisioned his combining Phiff and Ouroboros for the good of both houses. Bigzid, the far superior physical specimen, appealed to those who adhered to the Dragonborn faith in the hunt. Hunting was among the first things necessary when the Dragonborn needed to fend for themselves and their affinity for the spear and halberd was a point of pride and religion for them. Bigzid had been training since boyhood to embark on his Provenance, which would take place at 25 (in human years) to the south in the Sands of Olais. The Provenance hunt was the most certain method to ascend to Tyee. Bagging the legendary giant purple worm would seal Bigzid's rulership and secure Llyra's hand, despite her taste for Molzahn's words and ambition.

Ickfam, for his part, simply wanted the best for the Clan. No challenges would a soft leader make. His son's success in his Provenance, in spite of Molzahn's politics and scheming, would be proof of his readiness and fortitude. He wasted no time in calling the ceremony after Bigzid's
25th birthday. It was a must that the drake in question ride out alone and encounter what he would on the way to the Sands. It had been three generations since a truly successful Provenance hunt. The giant worm was the symbol of freedom from the yoke of the Dragon and there was no better trophy for the future Tyee.

On the day of the departure, all of the Ouroboros clan arrived in Phifferary to join the festivities and revel in their shared peace. At sundown, a mounted Bigzid rode toward the gate. Molzahn, standing next to Llyra, wouldn't look in his direction as he rode by. Many ancestors didn't return from Provenances, eventually swallowed by the sands. Still, it was tough not to feel certain as the vibrating hisses of assent followed the son of Ickfam out the gate to the swirling Sands.

After several days of scouting and reading the land for signs of the giant worm, the creature finally made its presence known. Bigzid mounted his horse and gave chase. The worm was far more enormous and menacing than he could have ever dreamed, and somewhere in his gut he knew it would be too much for he alone to tackle, yet the Dragon blood drove him forward. Bigzid chased the worm for two days straight, driving his mount to near exhaustion, when he nearly trampled over a quartet of stranded adventurers in the desert.

The Story Of Vyreth

Vyreth Qithuen--that's the name given to me by my new family.  According to tales told to me by my new father (and captain of a fishing vessel), Vjoro, he'd discovered me floating in a makeshift raft some miles off the coast of Hanover's Run--an island along the SW shores of Erenon--during a routine fishing trip. There was no form of identification, nor any hint as to my past whatsoever, on my person me aside from strange tattoos covering my torso and a jeweled ring dangling from a chain around my neck. Out of kindness and admiration of the strange alignment of paths that had occurred on that fated day, Vjoro took me back to the village and adopted me as his own child. His wife, Vera, tended to my cold and malnourished form and their biological son, Voltek, kindly accepted me as his new younger brother. My new family was good to me and taught me how to hunt and fish, and my skills in these areas grew to a point where I won several local competitive events. Vera was the mother you read about in story books--kind and gentle, empathetic and sympathetic yet firm and disciplined.

Since coming of age, I continue to have dreams about my original parents... my beautiful mother and her long, blonde, curly hair standing next to my stalwart father. In my dreams, my father always wears the ring that I now carry around my neck, a symbol and reminder of my own inner-strength in the face of being shunned by most of the others in my village. I was an outcast regardless of how much I tried to fit in. The only person who was willing to see me for who I was was a girl named Varishna, the daughter of the town steward who soon forbade her to see me. But his rule didn't stop us. Our affections grew into love, and when I turned 16 she confessed that she wanted us to marry and run away together. I finally felt alive and my soul came alive.

Then, one day a strange man paid a visit to our village cloaked in black and riding a massive black steed. He was clearly searching for something or someone, come to find out that someone was  me. The man came to my father's home in the night, and I spied on their conversation from a back room. I couldn't make out their conversation, but my father shot me a glance that told me to run. I hid in a closet until the strange man left, and when I emerged he told me that Voltek and I would be heading out to sea the following morning to fish. I was growing sick and tired of fish... The smell, the taste, it was everywhere.

We headed out to sea the following morning, as planned, but I knew something was amiss. As we made the return voyage home, we saw our village being razed in the twilight. After docking at the harbor, I ran back home only to find my mother laying murdered on the floor and the village in ruin. I frantically searched the burning homes for Varishna to no avail. One badly injured villager told me, in his dying breath, that the women had all been rounded up and taken away in a menacing and dilapidated ship. Our family dog, Vulkan, luckily made it through unscathed, tied to a post out back and barking out of sheer panic. Vulkan and I returned to my father's fishing boat, and with Voltek at the helm set sail for the Erenon coast to begin our search for the wicked hands behind the slaughter and for Varishna, my one true love.
Once we came ashore on the edge of the Fairn Forest, Voltek and I agreed to split up--he travelling East toward Trey La and myself North, to the town of Lehren. Hopefully, one of us would discover clues or at least bring us closure. We made a pact to return to the fishing boat in 3 months time to share our findings and decide what to do next.

The Story Of Demetrius

Demetrius Ramses "Doc" Livingstone was born... somewhere. Nobody knows where, exactly, or if they do they aren't saying. Doc appeared in a basket on the doorstep of a seedy Quanlo orphanage some 50-odd years ago, and as he grew older his dwarven lineage became quickly apparent. Sadly, nobody wanted to adopt a dwarf and Doc spent his entire childhood at the mercy of the orphanage's cruel proprietor, Draven. The man was negligent at best, and downright abusive at worst. He barely fed the children and what little food they did get often consisted of cold gruel or week-old bread, hard as a rock. Consequently, Doc spent most of his formative years roaming the streets and alleys of Quanlo scrapping with other youths, picking pockets, and begging for coin & food to make life less miserable for his fellow orphans and himself.

By virtue of his dwarven strength, Doc quickly ascended the ranks of the street scrappers and established himself as a defacto leader amongst the street kids and orphans. Even though Doc wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, he soon realized that his position as alpha dog was tenuous, especially as he grew older and started catching the attention of the local criminal underground. He realized he needed someone to watch his back, so he decided to ally himself with a fellow orphan who was also a long-time resident in his orphanage. This person, Peter, was a handsome young (human) boy who had suffered a rather pronounced facial disfigurement at the hands of some unknown fiend as an infant. The entire left side of his face was scarred and his left eye was a dead, unseeing, milky-white orb. Despite the circumstances of his upbringing and gruesome countenance, Peter was easily the happiest, most positive person Doc had in his life. Nothing could wipe the smile off his face, and he was always ready with a jest and a hearty laugh. Peter and Doc were around the same age, had been at the orphanage approximately the same amount of time, and thought of each other as brothers.

Peter was a devout follower of Apollo, and his unflappably positive attitude was infectious. He soon convinced Doc to abandon his scrapping, begging, and petty thievery in favor of earning his coppers through busking. Peter had managed to whittle himself a crude set of Pan pipes, which he would play while Doc told stories and sang poems for passers by. Several years went by and and the brothers did pretty well for themselves. They became fairly well-known and even talked of becoming bards and taking their show on the road. Draven, however, had other plans. Unbeknownst to Doc, Draven maintained several connections to Quanlo's criminal underworld and had been keeping a watchful eye on the young dwarf's development. One day, Peter was suddenly nowhere to be found. Doc looked everywhere in Quanlo that he knew his brother liked to go, but to no avail. Upon his return to the orphanage, Draven pulled Doc aside and informed him that he would now work for him, and that Peter would be held captive in some secret oubliette to ensure Doc's cooperation. Doc was furious, but had little choice in the matter as Draven made it abundantly clear that any insubordination would result in severe punishment... for Peter.

And so, Doc became Draven's unwilling thug, performing collections and torturing people as directed. Several times he balked at Draven's orders, but he kept his brother's crude Pan pipes as a constant reminder of his motivation and always did as he was told. One night on his way back from a particularly gruesome "collection", he overheard Draven speaking to someone through an open window. Doc stopped to listen and quickly realized they were talking about him, marveling at how effective he was as Draven's enforcer. The strange voice asked how Draven had managed to command such unquestioning loyalty from the dwarf, especially in light of the unsavory acts he was made to perform. Draven replied, "Simple. I took his brother 'hostage' and told him to comply or else his brother would pay the price. Luckily, he has no idea that I just killed the little bastard and dumped his body in the woods for the wolves!" Both voices laughed heartily as Doc's blood boiled. He thought of everything he done in the name of Peter's safety and flew into a rage. He kicked in the door to Draven's office and before anybody could react, he grabbed a letter opener from Draven's desk and flung it into the stranger's left eye before grabbing Draven and choking him so violently that he felt his neck snap under his grip.

Doc packed his meager possessions and fled Quanlo that very night, having recognized the stranger as the son of the local magistrate. He decided to spend his life as a living tribute to Peter and so became a paladin for his brother's god, Apollo. He vowed to live his life in opposition to those who would do evil and bring darkness, and to spread the goodness and light that was so abundant in Peter. Doc would live out his days honoring his fallen brother in all things.

The Story of Talos

Talos Aldaron was born in a small Elven village on one of the smaller islands between Nightfalls Island and the City of the Steel Lotus. Talos' tribe of Elves had been guardians of the island for several thousands of years, allowing only creatures that did not upset the balance on the island to migrate or settle there. When Talos was a young child, the village elders' egos swelled and they lost touch with an evil growing on the island. The Elves believed themselves to be too powerful to be overcome by the trolls, giants, and orcs on the island because they were disorganized and fragmented; that is until a powerful mage appeared.

The creatures eventually overcame his tribe, reducing the village to ash and slaughtering the majority of his people. Talos tried to take up arms against the invaders but he was not prepared for the onslaught. After the slaughter, his mother and father were never found. When Talos came to, he was being driven to a slave market to be sold to a powerful sorcerer's estate. The remaining members of his tribe (including his brother and sister), also taken to market, were dispersed among the various bidders.

After learning of Talos' arcane Elvish bloodline, the sorcerer who'd purchased Talos had originally planned to rend his physical form into components for magical rituals and potions. Upon reflection, the sorcerer instead decided to model him in his image as an apprentice. After living as a servant in the fields of the sorcerer's estate, the young apprentice came of age and his master sought a new apprentice. He brought Talos and several other children to a large hall where various magic items were strewn about and then summoned several large bears and wolves to attack them. Many of the children were ripped apart in a matter of seconds before they even realized what was going on. Talos dodged several of the attacks and managed to grab a wand. With the threat of death looming, he was able to channel a few simple spells from the wand blinding and confusing the animals. The sorcerer, realizing the potential in Talos, ordered the animals to stand down. The few remaining survivors were ordered back to the fields, some severely crippled by their wounds.

Unknown to Talos, centuries prior to his village's invasion and his own abduction, his master had made a pact with an evil being of great power from another plane in hopes of power and longevity. This demon soon returned to collect on his debts, enslaving Talos' former master and slaughtering everyone in the estate. Amidst the chaos, Talos fled east into the Glitter Flame desert in search of sanctuary and a new beginning.

The Story of Fhasys

Fhasys Kittouch was born to the owner of a brothel in Cherak, a lonely port city on the coast. Obviously, she was a ‘mistake’. The brothel was quite successful due to its strategic location and reputation, owned by a woman with the willingness to accommodate any need no matter how depraved. Needless to say, there was a lot of turnover at this brothel. The owner, Sybil, was a perfect business-person - smart, ambitious, lacking in moral character and an expert manipulator. She was also quite meticulous and calculating, so it came as a shock when she learned that her ex-boyfriend-turned-psycho-stalker Elf had managed to knock her up before they split. Sybil went into complete denial which lasted right up until she was about to pop, by which time it was too late to do anything about. Fhasys was born.

She was an awful baby, which wasn't surprising considering her gene pool, nor did it help any that Sybil wanted nothing to do with her. She wasn’t a particularly attractive child, though she was smart and curious. She had no siblings to play with growing up, and Sybil kept her home from school to avoid dealing with Half-Elf haters. She hired tutors who were qualified enough, but not exactly friendly. Fhasys didn’t mind though, she was always lost in her own world-- dark and shadowy, yet somehow comforting. Although Sybil was cold to her child, she enjoyed showing her off like a bizarre novelty to her wealthy patrons and friends. She hired the best dancers, musicians and acrobats to train Fhasys in all manners of performance. The young girl was enthralled with all of it as it was the only form of self-expression her mother would allow. Fhasys hated the way her mother treated herself and the desperate women she employed, but she learned the hard way not to speak out against her.

As Fhasys grew into a (surprisingly attractive) woman, Sybil’s attitude toward her went from that of a slight burden to a constant reminder of her own waning mortality. Her bitterness toward Fhaysis only grew worse over time, and when Fhaysis turned 19 she rashly decided to sell her in her annual concubine auction. This was the second time Sybil had ever made a mistake.

Fhasys, in a fit of rage, burned the brothel down--and Sybil with it. She never looked back. It was the beginning of a new life for her, with no one but herself to rely on and a newfound freedom she would never take for granted.