Unfortunate Souls

 Ache

Ache
The Reluctant Hero
-He travelled the path of Light-

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 Astrea

Seven years ago, in a small village on the Wild Coast, a young wife and mother fought back in futility as Orcish marauders from the army of Turrosh Mok invaded her home. They slaughtered her husband and three children and left her for dead. Astrea was found by a couple of kindly priests of Zodal, the God of Mercy, who had come to her village to aid the few survivors of the massacre. Although she was grateful to them for nursing her body back to health, her spirit still ached. Their prayers and words that spoke of forgiveness fell on deaf ears. She cried for weeks. Then she met Sagon, Priest of Trithereon the Summoner, God of Individuality, Self-Protection, Liberty, and Retribution.

Sagon befriended her and helped her to realize that the only way to overcome her pain was to seek justice on her attackers. Her tears stopped as she turned her focus on revenge. She would never again be that helpless wretch who could not protect her own flesh and blood. Seven years later, she is trained and prepared to seek out those who destroyed her life.

With raven hair, green eyes, and a porcelain complexion, Astrea used to be a very beautiful woman. Now, sorrow and bitterness smother the rare beauty that even the long scar on her cheek was even unable to mar. The melodious voice that used to sing lullabies, now sings only haunting ballads. Surprisingly, however, she retains her kind and gentle countenance. On the rare occasion it surfaces, her smile still soothes any tearful child. She cannot bear to see the innocent suffer or enslaved. Her duty is to protect those who are wronged, and bring punishment to those deserving of it.

When Sagon didn't return from a trip one day, Astrea's investigations quickly turned up the fact that many spellcasters, both priests and mages, had been kidnapped from this area of the Wild Coast. A contact in Safeton pointed her to The Keep of the First Rock, a Heironeon outpost about a week to the west, where a group of adventurers has been working on the problem of the disappearing spellcasters. She knows that Heironeous (the Invincible) is a good god, though authoritarian and from her perspective not to be trusted overly much. Still, the adventurers themselves did not sound like worshippers of Heironeous, so she travels out to investigate.....

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Astrea passed away during the quest for Magelin's mirror inside the Dragon's gem. Her body/mind/soul was absorbed by and now help powers the Dragon's gem.

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 Bak Mei (also know as Mist)

There is a tradition in the Tian Shan Monastery not to mention our physical parents after taking the vows of a monk. My true parent is the 43rd Tian Shan Master who taught me from my age of 5 until two years ago when I left the island to increase my wisdom at the feet of this company.

With small steps I took the boat passage to the great lands and walked for many weeks seeing all the things mentioned in the stories of our island. I ate food which resembled non food items and touched the life essence of terrifying monsters and good people both--some of which were difficult to tell apart.

In my heart, I have always felt a great reverence for the gray lady called Xan Yae stilled by her Sulouese name. For 27 years have I sought a place where I could especially pay her reverence and that place, for me, is also my greatest treasure. When my time is fulfilled, I beg her to accept me as a disciple.

The hard work of the journey has begun to improve my body as well as my wisdom. My shifu (master) warned me that I would either lose my discipline and swiftly become as a fisherman with no boat or I would begin to learn and develop in ways faster than I could at the school. He was right. Not only has my wisdom increased, but so too has the speed of my feet and the life force within my heart. I only hope the directions of my improvement will not disappoint the shifu for I feel that it is time for me to return to the school for the next test.

I will return as quickly as I am able.

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Bak Mei is no longer with us. He died during the terrible tree trek in mid-Harvester of 1036. When Sev finally gets over the loss he will finish writing the story of that trip in his memoirs.

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 Catherine O'Mannon

Catherine O'Mannon
Servant of the Heavens
Beloved of Noose
-The opportunity to serve with courage is the greatest honor one can hope for-

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 Daisy Smallfoot

Daisy SmallfootHunder
Her sincerity was true
-She fought Evil and served the Light so that others would know Joy-

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 Edmund Elysium

Edmund Elysium
Cleric of Heironeous
Servant of the Heavens
-A leader who reflected the Glory of Heironeous-

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 Gus

Old male dwarf fighter/psion.

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 Jean Renard

Jean is 6'1", 22 and weighs 175 lbs. He has gray eyes and brown hair which he keeps immaculately trimmed. Although he always stands perfectly straight, he gives off the impression that he is lilting. He has a keen wit and an affected attitude. He enjoys hunting, writing, and the company of young ladies. He has had great success at hunting, some success at writing, and not much success with the ladies.

Jean is a bit down on his luck. His family was once a great noble house, but bad luck has dwindled away its fortune and much of its glory. Wishing to reestablish his house's former glory, Jean has taken up arms as a Cavalier. Jean received his final training with the Order of St. Cuthbert stationed at Safeton, but desires a life of glory and romance that can not be had while serving in a garrison. When he met Sir Errant, he knew he had found his path to glory and honor. He pledged his servitude to Sir Errant as his squire and will set out to prove the worth of his once great family.

After a near-death experience in Sigil, Wee Jas, the Goddess of Death and Magic, saved Jean's life and he is now utterly dedicted to her worship.

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 Kid Blood

The Kid has no name, but the crowds chant for "Blood" as he is lowered into the pit. Granting no mercy, he playfully rends his opponents into quivering piles of flesh to the roar of his fans. He is unparalleled in both his skill in combat and his lust for freedom.

The Kid's Story:

The Kid was born to a tribe of the Rovers of the Barrens some 19 summers ago. In his tribe, a child has to earn his name on the quest that earns him his manhood. He was denied both when slavers from the Land of Iuz interrupted his quest on his 13th birthday. The freeborn child found himself shackled in slavery for life in the heart of most vile land in Oerth.

The Kid's proud heritage and fierce longing to be free could not be restrained. The feisty youth continually escaped master after master, only to be recaptured while trying to escape from the heart of Evil. At any opportunity, the frustrated owners would pawn off this package of uncontrollable fury to the next unwary buyer.

Throughout his adolescence the Kid learned to survive while being repeatedly beaten and shackled for his insubordination. He learned to play his various masters off each other and how to slip nearly any bonds they could put him in. He learned how to be more trouble than he was worth.

Finally, there was one master who just couldn't deal with him and who could not find anyone to take him off his hands. In desperation, the owner sold him for a handful of coppers to a Fire Giant pit fight promoter to be brutally murdered in front of an audience as a warmup event in the brutal bloodsports popular among the denizens of the Land of Iuz.

The Kid would not go down that easily. Palming a rusty piece of metal while being led to slaughter, he sprang on his would-be killer and ended the beast's life in a shower of blood. After being momentarily stunned, the crowd slowly began the chant that would define his career: "Blood".

The Kid was then given opening slots for unimportant matches. He was victorious in every fight and quickly moved himself up the ranks of the pit fighting circuit. Within a year, he became the headliner for major events and the undisputed favorite of the Land of Iuz's bloodsports.

Yurik One-Armed,the wily old giant who owned the Kid's stable made his fortune on the Kid. He went from a seedy, low-rent stable to the most successful and wealthiest man of pit-fighting. He treated the Kid like the star he was and the Kid grew to respect the giant's strength and brutality. Yurik was the closest thing to a father that the Kid had ever had.

Now the Kid only fights in major events so as not to create undue risk and spends the rest of his time training and enjoying the luxuries of being a star. He sleeps in a fantastic pavilion on silk sheets, eats the best food that pillaged money can buy, and has his choice of companions every evening. But he keeps a set of manacles by his bed as a visual reminder of his true status and keeps his hopes of freedom alive.

The Kid Himself:

The Kid looks much younger than his 19 years and is lean and a little short. His rugged good looks are not ruined, but enhanced by his impressive array of battle scars. He has the dark skin and angular features of his native people, with black hair and green eyes.

He has a number of tattoos that complement his scarring and give him a fearsome appearance. He keeps his hair shaved on the sides and long in the middle. He will spike his mohawk when making public appearances, but prefers the comfort of the hair hanging long. A friendly smile and warm, intelligent eyes betray the aura of terror he otherwise attempts to cultivate.

When not in battle, the Kid wears the finest silk outfits and goes barefoot. While training or in the pits, he dons his fearsome spiked armor and array of deadly weapons.

While in battle, the Kid delights in the killing of his enemies. A lifetime of imprisonment and hatred have turned this otherwise good natured boy into a ruthless, torturous murderer. He prefers to play with his opponents, bullying them into submission and tricking them into defeat. Only after he has won the psychological battle does he move into finish them off.

While outside of battle, the Kid is tortured by his enslavement and is sickened by his murderous acts. Guilt and a longing for freedom drives him to acts of bravado that only serve to drive him more deeply into his killing rages.

He hopes one day to escape these bonds and return to his life on the Barrens. Given his status, he could easily escape the golden shackles that bind him, but there are three reasons why he stays confined, for now. First, he has begun hearing stories that his beloved Barrens are gone, fallen under the boot of the merciless Iuz. Second, he knows that he could never escape past the boundaries of Iuz, he is too well known by the populace and is too ignorant of the world outside. Finally, he has grown fond of his fellow captives and will not leave them to slavery while he seeks freedom.

In the meantime, he bides, waiting for the opportunity for himself and his companions to escape the bonds of Iuz. He hones his skills for the day he can use them in the service of freedom and has sworn a vow that if he can escape he will not rest until every slave in the world is set free.

The Kid's Stuff:

The Kid only has access to his instruments of destruction when he is training or participating in an event. The rest of the time they are tightly wrapped up and tied in a blanket kept by the Giant's staff. Most of the equipment the Kid owns was given to him by his patron or various dignitaries who profited from his battles.

In addition to a selection of more mundane items, the Kid has the following special items of interest.

A Spiked Mithril Shirt +2. The story goes that this Mithril shirt once belonged to an elven lord that was slain personally by the demigod himself in an early battle to establish his power. It likely laid for centuries in the treasure vaults below the fortress. How it came into Yurik's possession is unknown, but the Fire Giant gifted it to his prized fighter after winning an annual championship bout. Finding it's subtle beauty unsuitable to the pits, the Kid had the stable's armorer rework it into something fitting his position. The silken underlayer was replaced with a tougher padding that mounted numerous 3"-4" needlelike spikes that penetrated through the fine mesh of the mail at regular intervals. The joints of the armor were reinforced with hard leather bands studded with more substantial bands and an external leather harness was added for attaching a variety of weapons. The juxtaposition of the supple elven craftsmanship and the harsh Giantish revisions created a look unique to the Kid.

A Ring of Jumping. This appears to be a simple steel band with etchings of spring bucks prancing around it's edges. Holding it between thumb and forefinger and squeezing betrays it's enchanted origin as it is easily compressed and then springs back into shape. Dropping the ring on edge causes it to bounce to 2 or 3 times the height at which is was dropped. A wealthy fan procured this ring and gifted it to the Kid in honor of the Kid's signature Jump-Grapple Death Move.

An Amulet of Natural Armor +1. This is a baby narwhal horn filled with the blood of a narwhal and tied with a leather thong around the neck. It was enchanted by the Ice Shamans of the northern barbarians and given to the Kid by one of their Jarls while visiting the Land of Iuz and becoming wealthy on bets won by the Kid. The amulet causes the wearer's skin to become taught and rubbery, like that of a whale. The skin develops and smooth, glossy texture, and the shiny appearance of being well oiled.

A Ring of Protection +1. This is a carved bone ring with a ruby and jet setting. The holy symbol of Kord, God of Strength is subtly woven into the pattern. For about a year, a shaman of the Rovers of the Barrens served Yurik's stable as a healer. The shaman was eventually killed for his lack of respect for his masters, but had time to secretly teach the young Kid in the ways of his ancestors. The shaman gifted the ring to the Kid shortly before he died and it remains the Kid's prime possession and believes the protection it provides comes directly from the spirit of the shaman himself.

Two Masterwork Shortswords. These weapons were crafted by Yurik's chief armorer, a Fire Giant of considerable skill. They are a matched pair of wicked looking swords made specially for the Kid. They are made of a blood-red steel and have evil looking serrations on both sides of the blade. Each sword has runnels for channeling blood down the blades and the combined effects of the serrations and the runnels provides spectacular displays of flying blood on every successful hit.

A Masterwork Heavy Flail. This was a weapon given to the Kid by a young noblewoman. The Lady was enthralled with the Kid's performance in the pits and paid for several evenings of the Kid's more personal attention. Although the Lady's unknowing husband paid for the forging, the flail was given to the Kid in gratitude for more than his combat prowess. The weapon is completely chromed, from the sturdy 3 foot handle to the massive spiked ball. The ball has a number of hollows that catch the wind when whirled around the Kid's head and screams with an unholy wailing.

A set of Manacles with a Simple lock. It's been years since the Kid had to wear any sort of chains, but he keeps this set with him at all times. It served as his portable prison for the better part of his lifetime and he keeps it as a reminder of who he is.

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The kid died from jumping through the back doorway of the wizards petrified worm tower before all the traps and spells had been removed.

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 Nakka

I started out my life as a rogue, being that I was raised up on the wrong side of the river in Elmshire and such. Spent most of my time with my "gang" bouncing around the Cairn Hills and causing a little bit of trouble here and there. One time we got unlucky, and a very powerful, well led, and well equipped group of orcs jumped us. We were brought back to the lair of tribe of Blood Drinker orcs, where the rest of the gang was tortured and killed. While I was being tortured, however, the shaman of the tribe stopped the proceedings and claimed me as her own.

Thus began many more days of torture. Always, the shaman, whose name was Kaynas, stopped just short of killing me. And repeatedly she let me heal before continuing the torture. In the all too brief times between "classes", Kaynas taught me orcish, beginning with the 21 words for pain. I sensed she was frustrated - each torture session brought me closer and closer to death. She prayed often to Luthic after healing me with a request that I have never fully fathomed. Finally, as I wavered on the edge of the final drop, something inside me snapped: my anger coalesced, and a burst of energy shot from my hand and struck Kaynas square in the face, freezing her slightly.

Kaynas laughed, came over and released my bonds. "Welcome to world of Focus" she growled. "The Door has been opened, but you still have much to learn...."

I spent twenty months with Kaynas, then left the Blood Drinker after the leader of the tribe died during one of the many raids. The fight for the leadership made my and Kaynas's life very uneasy and I decided to leave for a while until things settled down. I know I am welcome to return, but also know that many in the tribe would just as soon eat me. Kaynas remains something like a friend or mother, but more like a teacher, but in any case orcish has no word for her true role....

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Nakka was a 25 year old maile halfling weighing in at 30 pounds and 2'11" with brown eyes and black hair. He died by touch of a Shadow thus became one himself for a while until all his friends killed his unholy animated shadow. His body has been completely destroyed to make sure he does not rise from the grave again.

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 Lux

Description: 6 feet tall, 175 pounds, long honey blond hair and steel blue eyes; long legs with thighs that could kill a man if her greatsword doesn't ;-) Worshipper of Kord, or course. Picture here!

Lux enjoyed the freedom of her childhood. Both of her parents were warriors in a tribe of the Cruski people. They were often gone on raids or fighting in skirmishes on the borderlands. Lux was cared for by various members of the tribe, but in actuality she was a very independent girl and didn't need much looking after. Two notable events occurred in her childhood that would shape (or foreshadow) the warrior she would one day become.

She was nine years old, helping to serve up the stew to the warriors who had returned from a raid. There was one who stood out as different. He was called Stormbrother. As capable as any of the others, Lux was curious at how he didn't quite seem to fit in. While the others were slapping each others' backs in drunken camaraderie, Eugen Stormbrother always seemed to be observing, listening, absorbing, even reading some strange old writings of the tribe. Then he was gone. A few tribe members mentioned his disappearance, but shrugged it off assuming the Stormbrother had decided to set out on his own. Lux asked one of the elders, "But where would he go?" "Let it be girl, it is of no concern of yours." "But, he didn't bring his sword? Why would a man leave without taking his sword?" "I said let it be! We have bigger concerns for the tribe other than what one man does. Now, off with you!" Sullenly, she walked away. But she was not satisfied with the response she got, and she found Eugen's sword and bow and hid them away. She often wondered what happened to the Stormbrother, and did not understand how her tribe could so easily forget one of their own.

She was twelve years old, glacier jumping with some of the older boys. This was a thrilling game where each took turns on a dare jumping over a deep crevasse that had formed in the ice. One of them, Boden, who was the same age but a bit smaller than the others, was tagging along this day. They often tried to ditch him. Lux didn't care for him. He whined too much, and spent too much time sitting around watching while the others played. Lux and the others mostly ignored him, except on this day when they had jumped a crevasse and left Boden on the other side. Boden, of course, complained and hollered for them to come back across. The leader of their pack, Kovit, got it in his head to egg Boden on to make the jump. Boden was weak, and had tried a jump just once - a much easier jump and he had barely made it across. Lux knew it was ridiculous to even think Boden could make this one. She told Kovit to knock it off and just let him be. Even so, Kovit continued to tease him and yell insults until Boden was red-faced and desperate to do anything to prove himself. Boden ran for the crevasse. Lux watched from the other side and closed in. The kid leapt, and his front foot clipped the far edge - not quite making it enough to gain a solid footing. As he swayed backwards, Lux grabbed him and pulled him over. All the boys' faces were ashen, knowing what almost just happened. Then, Kovit, started laughing. Lux whirled on this bigger boy and landed a blow in his stomach that knocked him back a few steps. She followed up and they fought. Coming out on top, but barely, Lux turned to Boden. He started to say thanks, but she yelled at him, "And you! Get a spine! Only a coward or a fool would let someone else tell him what to do. That was really stupid." And, she leapt back over the crevasse and headed back to camp on her own. She did, however, yell back a bit more softly without turning around, "Follow the crevasse about a quarter mile south - that's to your left, Boden - and you'll be able to make it back around."

As she grew, and got stronger, Lux continued honing her skills for battle and survival. Her love of fighting, laughing, and the company of men grew only more. Those boys that she hung out with at age twelve got into more than a few fights over her as she grew older. Of course, she'd laugh it off and say, "You think fighting each other's going to work? You gotta have the strength and guts to go up against me to get my respect." And a small handful of them did.

She is now nineteen years old, and more than capable enough to set out on her own. There is still one brother who all the tribe has forgotten - or almost all. Lux went to a plot of cold earth and started digging. There she brought out a greatsword and bow that she had wrapped up and hidden there ten years ago...* A man wouldn't just leave without taking his sword*... and Lux set out to find the Stormbrother.

 

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 Nandelle

The only thing average about me is that I am average in height for my kind. My name is Nandelle, and my past is as varied as my ancestry. I began life born to an elven maid who fell in love with an enaging young man. The name given to me at birth came from a stranger who felt compelled to present my parents with a gift for their newborn child. The gift was a lovely little harp, and my mother chose to name me "Nandelle" which means "little harp" in Elvish.The next four years of my life are but sweet memories. I do not remember how my parents died; I only remember the loneliness and emptiness that filled my heart. My life is a series of diverse paths that cross to make one being.

As a very young child, I was encouraged by both my mother and father to play with the gift from the stranger. I remember many times being awakened to gaze at the stars by my mother. My father would put me on his lap, and the three of us would be in awe of the beauty around us. Then I would reach for my little harp and pluck the strings if only to sound the vision of the heavens. Mother always said to play that which is in your heart.

Father felt that it was important for me to understand the balance of things even at a young age. We would walk the forest and watch nature live and breathe. He taught me how to use a sling for self defense, and I became quite well known around the local area for my abilities with it. We would hunt small game, and he would make me feel so proud when I brought home the rabbit for dinner. I learned a certain sense of confidence and independence from my father.

One morning on one of our many trips into the deep forest, I arose to no greetings from my parents. I tried to wake them up, but I could not. I began to run aimlessly through the forest searching for help. I did not bother to mark a path or gain my bearings. I never saw them again; I never honored their life or death. I know that now. It is a wound I still bear. My sense of confidence and independence shattered.

I traveled without much purpose or direction for many days until I reached a town. I had never traveled to this town before, and I knew no one there. I was befriended by a local member of an organized gang and introduced to gang life. I was small, and they saw a great benefit in that. Many times I was hoisted up to the top of a building only to sqeeze myself into a small window and relieve the residents of its contents. Since the ability to detect magic is intrisically valuable in this line of work, I was taken to meet a man named Lystash Onefinger who taught me this and other things about magic. Although my deeds did not leave me feeling "right," I was with people who considered me part of the family, and I felt a sense of belonging. Something which I dearly desired.

I was a member of this family for several years. As I grew older, my inclination for personal acquistions grew, too. I learned the keen art of racketeering, and it was during this time that I managed to "acquire" a very special gem, a sapphire with a lightning bolt inside said to be the holy symbol of the Heironian God of valor, courage and heroism. Unfortunately, Veth Curnsmith, Guildmaster of the Thieves of Crockport, stole it from my hiding place. This loss signaled the beginning of the end.

Shortly after losing my most prized possesion, next to my harp, I left the "family" in disgrace. Our leader was ruthlessly killed by some mad person, and the blame was placed on me. I only knew how to wield a dagger and use a sling, but our illustrious leader was hacked to death by some weapon larger than those I use. I do not know why I was made the scapegoat, but it was time for me to leave after ten years.

With the skills I had learned as part of the "family," it was fairly easy for me to find a new home. I went to a gang I had some dealings with when I was a "family" member. They knew my assets, and they also nurtured my talents. I learned how to find and remove traps, and I also apprenticed in the fine art of picking pockets. I call it an art because I picked pockets mainly as a past time just to keep my wits sharpened. The more difficult the task; the sweeter it was!

I spent the next five years happily enough. I was moving up in the ranks of the gang and gaining respect. At the time, things could not have been better. Our gang's influence was growing in the community, and few were willing to stand in our way. Until one day when a rival gang decided it did not want to abide by our rules. A street fight broke out, and our small group of four was taken on by group of nine. We were all left for dead. As I lay there waiting for my inevitable fate, the Goddess bought someone to me.

Ara Irista was a good man, and he stopped to assist these apparent vicitms in the street. I could see him move from one person to another only to pull out an object and mutter some words. My body felt cold by the time he came to me. He spoke to me words I could hardly understand. I tried to respond, but all I could do was blink my eyes. Ara picked me up and carried me to a healing place. Little did I know that my back was nearly broke; little did I know that my soul needed to be mended.

Ara tended to all my wounds, both physical and spiritual. In order to regain some strength, Ara took me on long runs. Before I knew it, I was running many miles a day and my back was improving. He taught me to use the short bow to increase my strength even more. He introduced me to the Light of Lydia and all that She offers. The day he took me in, it took all my power to raise a glass of water to my mouth. I will never have the strength I had in my early youth, but I am not dead and my soul's thirst is quenched.

I spent six years with Ara until his death. He left me a gift; a deed to a keep in the Bright Desert. One day I will seek out this keep. However, I chose to honor Ara's life and death by gaining more knowledge for the Goddess. Sometimes I find myself playing my harp late at night while gazing at the stars. Music, Knowledge and Light for the Goddess that brought me to these crossroads.

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Nandelle was also killed by a Shadow but Patty used a hero point she had earned to remain dead.

 

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 Newman

Newman
The Constant Hero
-His courage and humanity were worthy of those of any faith-

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This tomestone is quite funny since Newman wasn't human!

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 Thomas "Noose" Cooper

Thomas "Noose" Cooper
Cleric of Mayaheine
Servant of the Heavens
Beloved of Catherine
-No sacrifice is too great for those in need of protection-

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 Sabra Gildenlight

Sabra was the black sheep born to the Gildenlight family, her mother having been seduced by a fiend who was half human, and half Tanar'ri - the the chaotic evil demons who make their home in the Abyss. Walking the gilded streets of Excelsior with her unnerving black eyes and lizard like tail, Sabra was a constant reminder of the Gildenlight family's shame. Sabra grew up in the shadow of her half-sister, Serena, who eventually became a paladin. Ironically, Serena was the only one who ever showed Sabra real love and respect.

To the not-so-concealed relief of her parents, Sabra left the Gildenlight household at a young age. However, being an intelligent and resourceful cutter, Sabra held her own quite well while traveling the Outlands. She has become a skilled spell-caster, and when she needs the jink is quite good at finding some berk with whom to game or pick-pocket. However, Sabra has a compassionate heart, and would never take something from someone unless they did something to warrant being a target. She is also a member of the Transcendent Order. She strives to understand herself and to be in touch with the multiverse. If she feels the Cadence of the Planes, she will not stop to think, she will simply know and just act. This doesn't mean she jumps into things blindly or without knowledge, but Sabra believes that pondering over things isn't necessary if you're aware of yourself and your place in the multiverse.

Recent events: Sabra woke up and felt like she should visit her sister, Serena. She went to Excelsior, talked with some friends (not family) and found out Serena had gone to a Prime called Oerth. She has now traveled through a portal to Greyhawk in search for her sister, half-sister, Serena. [What Sabra does not know is that Serena was recently killed as she fought alongside Sir Errant of the Mourning Son.]

Sabra is 5'2", 113 lbs, and 22 years old. She is a dark beauty - very curvy, very sexy and very confident in her appearance. She has a normal internal body temperature of 120 degrees, and has a beautiful, but odd skin composition that increases her normal defense. Here is a drawing of Sabra by Jennifer.

 

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 Serena Gildenlight

Serena Gildenlight was born in the Gatetown of Mt. Celestia, Excelsior. Her talent and abilities shone forth from an early age, even in a city of paladins. As both of her parents are paladins, these leanings surprised no one. Her life progressed according to plan, smoothly and with much honor.

All of this changed once her training was complete. Excelsior may be her dream city, and will always he her home. But there is precious little for an aspiring paladin to actually do there... quests and good deeds get snatched up as soon as they become available. Realizing that her fortune must needs he found elsewhere, she spent her graduation funds in the shining taverns of the town, discussing her fliture with the storytelling bards.

This too proved mostly fruitless. The bards sung of deeds already done. Too wise to simply wander to the Lower Planes, and too proud for the caraan guards which were always in short supply, Serena almost dispaired. But then, as her golden fate would inevitably have it, she heard one last sad tale from a bard finishing his work for the evening.

It was a new song, still a bit rough, but the crowd had turned in for a proper and healthful nights sleep, and only one heautiful young warrior remained. Silvo "Foxfingers" had never had much luck with the ladies of Excelsior. He was just here consulting with a sage, but figured it was worth a try, and leaned all his carefully concealed lust into the singing of his song.

"The Lamentation of Errant" almost did the trick. No mere lust was stirred in Serena that night, but a righteous love of the tragic paladin. Silvo's talent was undeniable, but his aim was off. Ever the practical man, he became the first of many persons Serena hired to help find her Errant. Three years and a level's worth of experience later, she has succeeded..

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Serena passed away during the quest for Magelin's mirror inside the Dragon's gem. Her body/mind/soul was absorbed by and now help powers the Dragon's gem.

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