Now that we are roughly 10 months into this campaign, I feel feel confident that we are sufficiently attached to these characters that we can introduce them to the world.
Hector the Well-Endowed
This blue dragonborn fighter comes from a bit of an unknown background. He grew up as part of a traveling circus. Despite being of magical descent, Hector displays no magical aptitude, outside of his ability to breathe electricity. He was found wandering around the countryside alone as a small child, seemingly with no parents or family in sight. Volbarg, the Tiefling in charge of the Fallen Wyvern Circus searched for the family, but was unable to find any trace of them. Unwilling to let the child die alone in the countryside, he took in Hector and planned to make him part of their act. Despite trying to teach him illusory magic, Hector never could make it work. Seemingly by accident, they found his true talents, watching Hector swing a stick to chase off woodland spiders. Volbarg paired him with Anya, the human former soldier, to teach him the ways of the blade. He took to wielding a sword as naturally as a mother takes to nursing a child. He quickly became the star of their show. He would whirl, twirl and dance with his swords, a beautifully balanced scimitar given to him by Anya, and a shortsword he found among the troupe’s stores.
Hector loved his life for quite some time. He traveled, performed and enjoyed the lifestyle. But as one knows, all good things must come to and end. Where the troupe went, rumors persisted of locals going missing and thievery by troupe members. One fateful night, he happened to walk in on this deception, thievery and potential assassination. His perception of the circus shattered, Hector grabbed his things and left immediately. He spent the next couple of years wandering, and lending his talents with a sword to whoever provided the most coin. Again, he developed a reputation and he was hired to help with a cult problem in Dunwitch…
Etrigan
Etrigan the Tiefling Bard is a curious individual. He is a kind soul, despite his hellish appearance. I’ve noticed he prefers to stab with a sword and whisper to his enemies. He has been known to be very clutch with his healing. He is one I feel the need to watch out for in battle, since he tends to be a bit reckless.
Curufin
Curufin the Wood-Elf Bard also has a way with words. He also has a way with wine. I have never seen another individual lose himself in the drink so much. We also should watch him, because he tends to run away at the sight of conflict (and what was with throwing that book in the river?). I will say that finding his father Gildor seems to have emboldened him a bit. Maybe we won’t have to worry so much afterall…
Aeschylus the Be-Deviled
Aeschylus the Bedeviled, the Eladrin Rogue, comes from a fairly long line of Eladrin noblemen, who served under their homeland's leaders throughout history. His father was Aeschylus, and HIS father was Aeschylus, and so on for 3 more generations, going back to his thrice-great-grandfather, Aeschylus the Brave, who served as the right-hand man to the King at that time.
When the King fell ill, his son took the throne, and began to distance himself from Aeschylus the Brave. As years passed, the generations of Aeschylus fell further and further from the throne. Our Adventurer's father, Aeschylus the Inspired, decided with his wife and their newborn son, to move from their home, and start anew where they could create their own legacy as honorable, hard-working people.
As the adventurer grew older, he led a humble, yet comfortable life out in the wilderness, in a home equipped with all the necessities a small family might need to survive the unpredictable forest in which it resided. But one evening, on the eve of the Adventurer's 13th birthday, a fire began to engulf the only home he knew. The intense heat and the incredible sound of great wooden planks crackling and snapping woke the boy, but his parents remained asleep.
"Father!" the boy yelled, but just as soon as the word escaped his lips, a supporting beam broke from the ceiling, and landed across his parents' bed, landing on their chests. He rushed to their side, and with all the strength he could muster, he attempted to raise the beam. But while doing his best to push through the searing pain of the fire burning his hands, the weight of the beam proved too much for the now-teenager.
In his last moments, Aeschylus the Inspired looked to his son, and pleaded that he save himself, and escape the inferno. The boy's mother gasped for air, and with what little movement she could make, gripped the young man's wrist. The boy frantically looked to her, but his eye move back toward his father when he hears, "Your mother and I need you to survive, and do as much good as you can for this world. Don't let it end here."
With those words now echoing in his ears, the boy was now alone. He breaks away from the bed, and crawls through the near window, and quickly gets a safe distance from a now-collapsing house. Only after this moment does the boy begin to feel the blistering of his hands. He screams out into the night and falls to the ground with tears flowing, when he feels the rumble of horses moving away from him. He lifts himself up enough to see a group of figures on horseback riding away. The boy staggers to his feet and tries to chase after them, but their speed matched his exhaustion, and they disappeared into the darkness. Aeschylus' vision became blurred, and he fell unconscious from the pain in hands.
When he awoke in the morning, he sifted through the remains of his childhood. With all his possessions, and effectively his inheritance, being lost in the fire, the young Eladrin was left with no known family, or wealth. The only surviving items from the blaze were a pair of fine leather gloves that his father had tanned earlier that week, and the clothes on his back. He came to the nearby river, and washed the ash and dirt away. When the boy exited the river, began to feel the pain again. As blood pumped through his veins, each pulse sent a shock of pain to his finger tips. He carefully adorned his fathers gloves which seemed to fit him perfectly. The leather pressing against his skin relieved some of the pain in his hands, making it almost bearable. He then proceeded to finish getting dressed, and took one last look at his home. "Don't let it end here," he pondered, and began to walk back toward the city he left as an infant.
Aeschylus the Bedeviled spent his more formative years in the city, doing his best to honor his parents dying words. He recalled his father always tried to instill the importance of learning, and strengthening the mind. With very little money, the Adventurer found himself stealing books more often than purchasing them. But with every misdeed, Aeschylus felt his mother's eyes upon him. So upon finishing the stolen books, he'd return them to their rightful place.
For fifteen years he lived and worked in the streets and alleys of the city, doing his best to survive. Eventually, Aeschylus had accumulated enough personal wealth to venture away from there, with the hope of regaining his former life. He roamed the wilderness and took lodging whenever he could find it, but keeping to himself, to try and keep out of trouble.
One evening, the rogue Eladrin sat isolated in a local tavern when he overheard rumblings from a nearby table, describing attacks in the land of the Wood Elves. Upon hearing this, Aeschylus moved himself closer to the table, listening to details of the story, all the while being reminded of the horror he knew as his 13th birthday. Having heard enough of all this, the rogue suddenly stood up, startling those around him, and left the tavern. His hands began to painfully throb, even with his father's gloves encasing them. It's as if he could feel the pain of not only the loss of his parents, but the loss of the Wood Elves as well. The words "Don't let it end here," echoed in his brain. Aeschylus shared in this pain with the Wood Elves, and for the first time in fifteen years, he did not feel alone.
Igneel
Igneel is a gold dragonborn with the ability to breathe fire. He has more success exhaling flames from his throat than saying the right thing. Igneel speaks impulsively or not at all. He'll be the first to violate social norms, speak of the taboo, or to scare people without even realizing it. Even as a child, Igneel was large and clumsy. Although his words rarely came out right, he's not short on friendliness. Igneel is easily won over with a kind word or a smile, and then he wants to hug everyone he likes. When he gets too excited, he breathes fire between words when talking, which is problematic for many reasons. Igneel was awkward, feared, and avoided growing up. He easily fell into bad crowds and was talked into a lot of dumb ideas. As Igneel ostracized himself from his home town, his parents decided to send him off with an old friend, the black dragonborn ranger, Corrozio. Corrozio kept Igneel out of civilization, because the gold dragonborn was so bad with people and creating so many problems whenever he went out. Corrozio trained Igneel in the way of the ranger, which was difficult, because Igneel had a knack for literally running into trouble. If there was an animal jeopardizing the safety of his town, Igneel would stumble upon it or its lair and bring on an early fight. Master and mentor Corrozio also helped Igneel to think before he spoke, and to hold back from spitting fire when he was too excited. Needless to say, this took a long time.
While training under Corrozio, Igneel's home town encountered new foes in the form of fiend(s). Igneel was eager to learn more about these little demons who seemed to come out of nowhere. Corrozio seemed to know quite a bit, and Igneel was eager to learn. Igneel was determined to finally help his home town from the fiend(s) who were being summoned there for some reason. One fateful night when the fiend(s) returned in the mountains on the outskirts of Igneel's home town, he and Corrozio were confused and forced to separate as malicious presence was felt heading towards and away from town. Igneel darted off towards civilization, but lost the trail of the fiend he was following. He happened upon a giant (boar?) instead as tricked by the fiend. By the time Igneel got back to Corrozio, he saw the death blow being dealt to his beloved master. “I'm sorry, Master!” Igneel cried, holding the elder black dragonborn in his arms. “Please don't go!! You can't die!! I don't know enough! I'm still a menace and I don't know if I can beat these (this) enemy on my own! I need you! … Corrozio!! ... I'll miss you too much! You can't...” “Igneel... no,” Corrozio said. He coughed up blood. His body shook and trembled. “You've... learned... a lot... You'll be fine... Do what... I.... taught...” Those were Corrozio's last words. Igneel sobbed and threw his head back to cry out to the heavens. A beacon of fire launched forth from Igneel's mouth. His anguish and sadness was too much to control and came out as flames of passion. Once his home town seemed safe again like the fiend(s) were done targeting it, Igneel set off to track fiends on his own. He wanted revenge. He hated fiends. He would protect others from these vile creatures and do what Corrozio had taught him. He'd live his master's legacy. Unfortunately, Igneel wasn't that great at tracking things by himself. He was loud, abrasive, and bumbling when talking to others for information. Igneel found fiends here and there, but it was never the one that murdered Corrozio. Igneel soon lost track of the scent all together. He felt like a giant failure. His people skills were getting worse and he had let his mentor down. Igneel finally took to the sea, hoping to find someone he wouldn't scare away. The gold dragonborn still wants revenge, but helping good citizens and not being a nuisance himself comes first.
