Dungeons & Dragons
Currently in Phandalin Protecting the secrets of the Phandelver
APPEARANCE (STORY VERSION)
A charcoal skinned drow elf approaches you from the tree line. As he removes his cowl his piercing red eyes brings a sense of uncertainty.
The slender elf is adorned in what appears to be old leather armor with bark and leaves haphazardly attached resembling some kind of ghillie cape. A loaded crossbow is fashioned on his forearm with a quiver at his side.
As he grows near, you can make out his distinguishable features. He is disheveled with some slight wrinkles, he is an older and experienced adventurer. Unsure of his intentions you ready your weapon. He stops in place and reaches to retract the arms of his crossbow and the sound of twisting rope is silenced and click. The mechanism is stowed.
He hastily walks in your direction and extends his empty hand as if he wants to shake yours. Upon doing so he reveals a large deep scaring that runs up his forearm. You can still somewhat piece together what used to be a contiguous tattoo. Its obvious he was victim of some kind of gruesome attack. With an upbeat voice he gestures to his open hand and upon reciprocating you exchange formalities. Well met, Adventurer!
- Older Drow Elf
- Charcoal Skin
- Red Eyes
- Oddly upbeat
- Hobo cape of leaves and bark
- Remnants of tattoo along scarred arm
On one of Faenors adventures he stumbled upon a traveling convoy. Out of curiosity he hid in their blind spot and followed them to assess what their true intentions were. After a day or two they seemed nonthreatening and was simply transporting wares. Under the cover of the forest canopy Faenor notices something odd about the area, a clear road and silence. This never happens in these part and he readies a handful of arrows.
In the corner of his eye he sees something dash beneath the forest canopy. An EXPLOSION in the other direction rocks one the carriages and a hooded figure pierces through the cloud of smoke . Several other bandits savagely attack the unsuspecting convoy. At that moment Faenor launches three arrows in rapid succession. He continues to unleash a flurry of arrows piercing each target.
All Gundren sees is a volley of arrows from the shadows followed by a series of collapsing bodies with arrows in their chests. It was over as fast and it began. Faenor walks out and starts inspecting the dead bandits. Gundren thanks him, but Faenor brashfully continues to go through the dead bandits effects. As Gundren explains the nature of his work, Faenor finds a few gold pieces and places it in his pocket. Gundren offers Faenor a position on their detail, a beat—he stands up, shrugs and shakes Gundrens hand in agreement. Everyday since, if Gundren ever needed security consultation Faenor was there.
With Kalas Version
Some stuff might go here
BIO (STORY VERSION)
A handful of adventurers surround a campfire. Among them is Faenor, happily drinking ale and enjoying the company. As the merriment settles down someone shouts, “Faenor, whats your story?” A SLAM is heard as Faenor’s stein makes contact on the log he’s sitting on. A beat— a disrupting burp bellows out. Faenor, drowsily collects himself and begins to tell his story.
I was bor—hiccup I was born, Seladreth Fel’sdal of Menzoberranzan a place of chaos and bloodshed. It was a society where feuding clans betrayed and killed one another just for the notoriety. [Faenor’s eyes narrow in serious fashion and hunches over and continues.]
In the eyes of our Spider Queen your favor was measured by that notoriety. For centuries, my house and House Do’Urden constantly ambushed each other. It was an infinite loop of death and despair. I was about 65 when one night, I awoke to hundreds of bodies laying dead on the floor. My family, friends and comrades slaughtered so swiftly.
[The metal stein falls to the ground and rolls to one of the adventurers.] The adventurer picks up the stein refills it and hands it to Faenor. He aggressively swipes it from adventurers hand thereby spilling some ale on the ground. [Faenor grunts in gratitude and continues on, he is noticeably distraught] I ran as fast as I could, anywhere but here, I told myself. I could beams of sunlight making its way across the dark tunnel I was almost out. The Do’Urdens swiftly caught up and took me to the Mother Queen.
I would serve House Do’Urden this day henceforth. [Faenor Stops and collects himself taking a deep breath] You see, my clans tradition was to honor those who ascend adulthood by marking them as such. Our sigil was tattooed over one of our arms. The next night I awoke to several figures abruptly held me down as a some sort of magical incantation was muttered. Struggling to free myself I got this hot feeling throughout my body, a larger man steps forth and he quickly moves his hand over over my body.
As he moves his hovered hand across my body i can feel the heat moving in tandem. The pain was something I’ve never felt before. The incantation intensifies as his hand moves closer to my forearm and I could see patches of flesh and tissue peeling off my arm and dissolves into the ether. The forcibly removed my clans tattoo.
Living in the same house that slaughtered my family gave me a different perspective on the culture. As a younger elf I was told cautionary tales of Drizzt Do’Urden. He was one of the few drow elves to ever rebel against the Queen. I was certain the stories were real and I managed to escape the clutches of the evil around me. I wanted that feel that emotion I felt as I attempted to escape Do’Urden’s the first time. That light I saw gave an emotion I was unfamiliar with. In the elvish language “Faenor” means light. As I denounced my old family name I embraced the Light and became Faenor Seladreth. My quest to find Drizzt hasn’t been so fruitful. In the two hundred year journey I still haven’t found him and I fear he was more of a myth than a man.
- Abused Orphan Drow
- Denounced the Culture
- Seeking Drizzt Do’Urden
- Deathly Afraid of Large Insect-like Creatures