Campaign of Awesomeness! (Inactive)

Game Master BloodWolven

Background
Adegard, my son, I have always been proud of you. You embody the best of me and are everything I could’ve hoped for in a son. I know you wish to serve Iomedae – to be a righteous servant of the Inheritor, and to make me proud. Whenever there has been trouble here in our small town, you have been ready to stand beside me. Whether it was helping fetch water and bandages for an injured farmer, working to reseed the blighted crops, or even offering to take up a cudgel and help me defeat the goblin tribe encroaching, you have always showed your devotion to serve others. Your time will come in a few more years. The things I have taught you since you were a babe have been to prepare you for such a life, as I knew from the moment I laid my eyes on you that you were blessed.

I have written this letter several times in the past, yet it has never reached your hands. I hope again that is the case, though the dangers I now face are far greater than you’ve seen or heard of me facing before. There is a dangerous threat growing in the mountains to the west, one which I have been called to help defeat. The strength and power granted to me by Iomedae is needed in this battle, and thus I must go.

As you know, before you were born I served in the crusading arm of the church, facing many evils, from the marauding hordes of Ustalav to the demon infestation of the Worldwound. But what became my personal quest was the rescue of our kin, those Halflings enslaved in Cheliax. I spent years ferrying our people north out of Cheliax, to freedom and a new life.

It is about one of those slaves that I now tell you. Her name was Lillya and she was a beautiful halfling lass who served as the kitchen mistress to a Chelaxian noble. That was her life by day anyway. By night she was a devoted servant of Iomedae, heavily involved in the underground working to liberate halfling slaves. From the moment I met her I loved her from afar - for her strength of will, for her faith in Iomedae, for her devotion to our people, for her beauty in even the harshest light.

We worked alongside each other for those several years, her from within the noble houses, I from the outside. I believe she knew of my feelings, though we never acted on them. I asked her several times to leave her life as a slave, that she could still serve the cause but also have a free life, perhaps even a family. Always she politely resisted, stating that her bondage was a part of her devotion to Iomedae. In that she taught me humility in both my role and my faith.

Over those years we rescued dozens, more than a hundred, of our kin. Not once did she ask for anything for herself. Yet during one meeting to pass along escapees, she turned to me and said that the next exchange, which would have to be several months away, would be her last. She had to leave Cheliax. I begged to know what had happened, fearing she had been harmed, threatened, or discovered. She smiled and said that she’d been blessed, that her mission would now take her away from Cheliax, then kissed me on the cheek and left.

My heart aflutter, the next few months seemed like an eternity. Was it possible I could have the life with her I had always hoped for? Was she ready to share that with me? When the fateful night came, she had the largest group of slaves we had ever tried to move. We evaded pursuit, and made it north out of Cheliax. Yet something was different about Lillya. She wore loose, almost bulky robes, not the norm for her. A few days in, she cried out in pain and collapsed. I rushed to her side and reaching for her abdomen, quickly determining what was ailing her.

Lillya was pregnant, and had gone into labor. Her labor lasted several hours and was challenging for her, but in the end a beautiful baby boy was born. She smiled up at me and asked to hold the child, her breath weak. As she held her son, she looked up at me and smiled as she started to cry. To my last day I will always remember what she said next. “This is Adegard, our son. He is a blessing to us from Iomedae, a gift for our years of faith and devotion. I love you Nollin, I always have. I am sorry that I cannot be here with you to raise him. I will always be watching, from the Inheritor’s side. I love you both.” The child was you – Lillya was your mother. With her final words she kissed each of us, closed her eyes, and was sent to Iomedae’s sacred halls in the beyond.

I promised to live by those words, left the adventuring life, and settled down to raise you in our quiet little town. Aden, you are a gift to me, my son. But more than that, you are a gift to Golarion. Serve Iomedae well, make her proud. Know that you always have a home in the church. Know that you are always loved, both in this life and the next. You need not be a perfect knight, but always be who you are, a good man.

~ Your Father, Nollin

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EXCERPT FROM THE JOURNALS OF SIR BAESTRIX VALINOS

28 Gozran, 4702 – Our tracking efforts and movement through the night allowed us to close the distance and catch up to the slaver caravan. Upon engagement, reports of leaders adorned in bull-headed armor More than two dozen slaves liberated, though none were aware of their destination. and wielding divine magic was confirmed. We only managed to capture three, all the others preferring to fall in battle. Neither of the warriors would share much regarding the iconography of their faith and sect. For their sins they were given the Final Judgment. As for the priest, some efforts will be made to withdraw what accursed knowledge he possesses.

13 Deznus, 4702 – I have been able to confirm that the slaves are in fact those reported as kidnappings and disappearances throughout western Molthune and Nirmathas across the last month. None of those rescued predate that timeline, so this clearly was not their first such efforts. Through devout practices I have been able to withdraw from the cultist that the bullhead is the unholy symbol of Baphomet, and they belong to a sect known as the Cult of the Ivory Labyrinth. Their actions are broad and dangerous and they have a keep nestled in the mountains. I have submitted a request to the church forces in Lastwall for aid in tracking down and eradicating this threat.

18 Deznus, 4702 – Blast them all to the Nine Hells, my request for additional resources and manpower has been denied. Those damned arrogant human witch hunters, so caught up in their mechinations and conspiracies that they fail to see the growing threat. But Iomedae be blessed, I heard a rumor from one of the free swords I recruited. He spoke of a middle-aged Halfling who often visits the fortress to resupply, adorned in the livery of the Church. Could this be Sword-Brother Nollin, my old friend? If it is, he could be a valuable ally in the impending assault.

29 Deznus, 4702 – A farmer… Brother Nollin has hung up his sword and taken up the pitchfork. That is perhaps the most amusing thing in all Golarion. And he raises a son, a young lad named Aden, though he would not speak of the child’s mother. There seems to be a deep pain there. Still, the child is blessed by Iomedae, that is plainly clear. To the matter at hand, I shared with Nollin the details and he is convinced of necessity for action. He knows of a few other men who would likewise be willing to join quest. We depart in the morning, expecting it to take us four days to get into the mountains and find reach the cult stronghold.

1 Sarenith, 4702 – Our first two days of travel have been uneventful, though I have a strange premonition we are being tracked, or pursued by some unknown force. While our company is no legion, neither are we few enough to effectively cover our tracks. No one has been able to spot any hostile force, but I am still uneasy. I have ordered a double watch tonight, we shall see what the morning brings.

3 Sarenith, 4702 – We have ascended the mountains, drawing within visual range of the Cult stronghold last night. I still have the feeling we are being tracked, yet I have no sense of foreboding to go with it. It is most strange. In the pre-dawn light this morning, Brother Nollin summoned an angelic being – a Chalkydri named Aelios he has called on before, to aide us in our battle. The being has agreed and will fight with us against the Cult. With the combined strength of Nollin, Aelios, myself and my knights, these demon-worshipping scum will not stand a chance. They will feel the wrath of Iomedae.

5 Sarenith, 4702 – I am all that remains of the company, save for our ‘unknown pursuer’. My hubris was our downfall. We went forward with a frontal assault on the fortress, which had far superior defenses than expected. The cultists were well armed and armored, and fought as trained warriors rather than craven madmen. We made it through their first ranks easily, but depleted a great deal of resources. Entering into a massive cult summoning ritual, demons descended into the battle alongside the cultists, a powerful force that now far outnumbered us.

The tide separated us into two cohorts; my knights and I battled the bulk of the cultists and lesser demons while Nollin and Lutriisen moved towards the priests. Aelios battled an unholy bull-helmed warrior while Nollin, stealthy despite his armor, was able to get the drop on their high priest as he finished their final summoning ritual. To my deepest regret, he was a moment too late. As Nollin impaled the cult leader, a massive demon materialized out of the summoning circle. The beast paralyzed Nollin with but a whisper, then tore him limb from limb.

A horrid cry echoed from the shadows, and the battle seemed to pause for a moment – a cry of loss. The demon charged the helpless sound and I saw its claw slash into the darkness, drawing out a second, weaker cry. Lutriisen scattered those about him as he charged the demon in turn. They fought a mighty battle. But as they did, my knights continued to die. The tide was against us. I saw Aelios look into the darkness and whisper something. He dropped his guard and allowed the demon to eviscerate him, but as he did, a wave of Iomedae’s blessed light surged forth, destroying all the demons and stunning the cultists.

I ran to the darkness seeking the source of the cry. Aden, Nollin’s son, lay on the ground, bloodied but looking up at me. How he survived the demon’s assault I may never know, but I suspect. A radiant glow lingered around the child, and as I watched, I could see ribbons of that holy light mending the wounds. As the light faded, a strange mark formed upon the right side of Aden's face, where the wound had bin. It matched the sigil that had been upon Aelios's tabard. Having only a few precious moments, I grabbed the child and his father's effects, then fled the castle. We now head back toward Nollin and Aden’s home, perhaps to find someone who knows of Nollin’s wishes for the boy.

11 Sarenith, 4702 – I am taking the boy Aden as my squire. True, it is my duty, for I am honor bound to his father to care for him. But even moreso, the signs are too clear to ignor. The child’s faith is vast, and his ability to heal from the horrific wound inflicted by the demon marks him as obviously blessed. A neighbor had a letter for the boy with Nollin’s last words to him. Aden took great comfort from it. We head now to Vigil to regroup and determine the next step.

16 Calistril, 4704 – Aden has gained much in skill in the last two years. He has taken well to duties of a squire and a soldier, has developed balanced sword arm, is showing an emerging understanding of tactics, and has even become quite proficient as an apprentice to a local smith. He is still a lad and can be a bit brash, but the promise he shows is astounding.

I have written to several priests regarding Aden's incident and markings. After much research, several instances have been found of angel's binding themselves to a mortal's soul, but only one of the utmost worthiness. In those cases though, it was through a planned ritual, rather than a hasty battlefield act. I think the angel Aelios did this to Aden, and now the two share some kind of symbiotic existence, though the angel, so damaged in the battle, is only a fraction of its once great power.

If I am correct, Aden will truly be a mighty servant of Iomedae, and within the next few years I am certain he with take the oaths of a paladin.

22 Erastus, 4707 – We have come north to Mendev, to join in the Fourth Crusade. Kenabres will be our home for now. Aden has taken to my training well. He has surpassed every expectation of a squire, and the spark of his faith is evident. He is his father’s son. His heart is good, his will strong, his faith infallible. He has petitioned to join the Knights of the Hallowed Shield. I find it fitting that, not knowing the details of his father’s career in the Church, Aden on his own would seek to join the same brotherhood as his father before him. I will be honored to present him with his father’s blade and sacred ring of the order when he is marked a sword-brother.

1 Lamashan, 4709 – the Fourth Crusade has failed, with far too many losses. There is no devoted vision in this city, only squabbling, power hungry men. What has happened to our church? I depart with a company to recover some of the lost relics of the age from the battlefields of the Worldwound. Aden stays behind in his service at the House of the Hallowed Shield. He is quite skilled, but is not yet ready to once again face such horrors.

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Iomedae is my strength.

The light is dim, is it still night? No, I can hear the movement of the world beyond these walls. The westward sky in Kenabres has always been dark, yet now that darkness creeps further east. Still a few soft beams of dawn’s first gasp cut through the window, signaling the beginning of a new day. Duty calls.

I am a humble servant of the Inheritor. Blessed with strength and resolve, You have called me to serve in Your continuing crusade against evil, tyranny, and destruction. I will be vigilant, bold, and steadfast in my duties. I will do all that I can to further Your cause. I will assist those already fighting the evils of this world, and with my deeds inspire those still seeking a path in life. I will watch over the weak and defend the innocent. I will be as the dawning sun, triumphing over the darkness of evil, bringing the light of Your blessing to those in need.

Though a blade can become worn and dull, my faith is ever honed. My sword is but a part of my arm, and my arm but an extension of my body. On their own they serve no purpose. But my body is the manifestation of my will, which is guided by my faith in You. I will stand against evil and injustice, though it may lead to my death. Let me ever serve as Your righteous crusader, striking at all evils. Someday, let me be worthy to join those in Your unending crusade in the beyond, serving beside all those who have served You before, especially my father and Sir Baestrix. I pledge this to you, Iomedae.

Blade sharpened and mail oiled, a warrior of Iomedae is vigilant. Armor donned, sword sheathed, shield strapped to my back, a soldier of the Inheritor is resolute. Cestus, dagger, and glaive, battle comes in many forms, I must be prepared for them all. Mind focused and faith firm, for they are my greatest defense. I will always remember my heart is my greatest weapon. Just as my blade can strike true in the service of Iomedae, so too must it sometimes be halted. Justice is righteous, but so too is the path of redemption.

The responsibilities of a humble servant of Iomedae are many. Though many see glory only in battle, any task that serves the Great Crusade is a worthy role. My duties as a temple guard are a noble part of the cause: I protect the hallowed halls of the Inheritor, keep a watchful eye on the wounded, deliver missives between the clergy and the knights, maintain the armor of the blessed, and remain ever vigilant against the corrupting influence of the Worldwound.

In my time at the House of Hallowed Shield I serve those afflicted by the Crusade. Friar Audrin has taught me of the value and truth of these people. Though wounded, scarred, and broken, we must remember they are men, women and children of this world. Many of these unfortunates served, those who did not lost loved ones to the Crusade and now need our aid. We must always honor the service of those who have died by maintaining our faith and good nature.

I think back to that day, when my father joined your righteous legion above. With my waking thoughts I hear the promise made to me by the angel who gave itself to protect me, “when you need me, call, and I will return.” It is strange, I feel his power with me. When I act as a dutiful servant of the Church, I feel his approval upon me. He is like an echo of my father and a mentor from You, sent to guide me ever forward as a soldier of Iomedae. I know that, when the foe I face seems vilest, he will be beside me as Your agent, facing the horrors with me. Thus I will never stand alone.

Today is Armasse. Today I renew the vow, taken each year since Baestrix’s departure. I am a Crusader of Iomedae, I will serve as She commands, I am ever Her humble servant.
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It was the knowledge that such a city held that was the real draw to him. Absolom was one of the largest cities in the world and it's libraries and vaults were almost unrivaled. His spare time often consisted of hours of research, pouring over anything interesting he could get his hands on that he hadn't read before and committing every page to memory.

The reason he was here in Absolom was to gain a new start. Queen Telandia didn’t trust him much yet so he had to prove himself. Serving his homeland through some boring diplomacy wasn’t what he would prefer but thankfully diplomacy was something he was good at, even though he took it from a different angle than most. extra trait gained - Clever Wordplay(diplomacy)

Many things had changed for him recently both good and bad. The name of Elamaer was an old one. Older than this world, originating with a powerful family of mages back on their homeworld of Sovyrian. All he knows is that they were protectors and guardians. Unfortunately things changed for them when they returned to Golarion thousands of years ago and the Elamaer history is now only a legend that the family remembers.

The first half of Serill’s life actually had no magic in it at all. His parents mostly ignored him so he did whatever he liked, which happened to be exploring. Sometimes he would take off for weeks and venture into the mountains or the river kingdom lands. He often got into trouble and fights.

The worst, and last, time would be when a group of bandits had captured him sneaking through their territory. He was no match for them and they beat him to within an inch of his life. Ironically it was this closeness with death that awakened a long dormant part of him. Flames shot forth from his hands, burning several of the bandits and destroying their camp. He crawled away in the confusion and escaped. extra feat gained - Toughness

When he told this fantastic story to his father and showed the blood, wounds and dirt and ash covering his clothes, a light switched on in his father’s head. He proclaimed this the best day of Serill’s life and sent off a letters to all the academies he know, hoping one would accept his son. Serill didn’t much care for study but the memory of his beating and fire summoning made him agree to stop getting himself into danger. At least until he could handle himself when he did.

He was sent to Iadara after scoring exceptionally high on the entrance exam and from there applied himself appropriately. Unfortunately the part of himself that liked to get into trouble could not be held down for long. Even before completing his first year he was banned from evocation for a while. No one would teach him because too many ‘accidents’ happened when he did.

In spite of their frustration at his antics he showed much promise. He was top of the class in many disciplines but none so high as his skill with divination. He never failed to identify the school from the aura left behind by a spell and was always the fastest to decipher and read unfamiliar spell scrolls. If his exploration and antics in the past had sharpened his body, the focus of the academy had sharpened his mind. ability score gained - +2 intelligence

After years of study he was finally able to take the final exam and graduate. Now an apprentice wizard, to further his studies safely he needed a mentor but the years of being cooped up were getting to him and he desperately wanted a change of scenery. He met Taralor who was in the city on business who just happened to be needing an apprentice to help him.

Taralor travelled a lot across Kyonin and sometimes outside of it and so left Serill to tend to his estate. There were many arcane resources for him to learn from and he found that the autonomy of the situation was perfect. Soon the academy and his home had been forgotten.

Study and estate management did become a bore after too long but there was one friend that he had. Taralor had one of the most unusual animals in his possession that he had ever seen. A great eagle that he said he had rescued and had subsequently been indebted to him for life. Serill looked after Alagon when Taralor did not need him and the old tame giant eagle became his only friend. mount gained - Giant Eagle

Serill was recruited to the winter council by Taralor when he ‘stumbled’ on knowledge about the organisation. In truth Taralor wished to use Serill for more than administerial duties. He brought him with him more often, much to Serill’s delight and he became one of their spies. Being trusted with this meant even more freedom to go wherever he wanted as long as he completed his tasks.

He was loaned a trinket from Taralor’s possessions to aid him. A small hairpiece that could disguise him to look like any elf he wanted. He knew the spell required and had never thought there was any use in having an item for something he could already do. The constant possession and use of it however, opened his mind to the possibilities of using such a wondrous item and not having to prepare the magic beforehand.

He asked Taralor if he could make an item of his own and he found a wizard capable of teaching him how to do it without blowing himself up. What he wanted was a cloak of invisibility but such would take more skill than he currently had and he was forced to start with minor items. After many accidents and failures he successfully made a very basic Ioun torch. He had a long way to go but he was determined. crafting feat gained - Craft Wondrous Item

He returned to the academy to further his standing and easily passed the Mastery test showing his proper and safe casting of at least four first order spells. Finally he was an apprentice no longer and could demand respect as a high wizard of the first mastery. Taralor congratulated him and promised a gift as reward for everything he had done for him. This gift did not come without a price however.

Taralor had got his hands on a very powerful ring and would give it to Serill as his own. Serill accepted the ring, though knowing not all gifts are free, and asked what made it of such worth. It was a ring of three wishes and the first two had been used by Taralor but he could not decide what to use the final one no so he left it up to Serill. He would not tell Serill how he had managed to possess it.

Serill tossed and turned many nights, dreaming about the ring and its godlike power. He wondered what Taralor had wished for the other two times but could not bring himself to ask when he was so guarded about the origins of the ring itself. Perhaps it was cursed and when he made his wish it would twist it into the worst version of what he thought he wanted. Eventually Serill gave in and decided on something that couldn’t possibly be twisted against him and wished to have a perfect memory. wish gained - Perfect Preparation(Ex) archmage ability

Unfortunately there was an unforeseen side effect to his wish. With a perfect memory came the perfect recall of all the information stored in it and for months he was overwhelmed with constant information overload as his mind jumped from topic to topic nonstop. He thought he would go crazy but he finally learned to control his mind better and only recall something when he wanted.

One of the more interesting things to surface that had been lost to the depths of his mind is the legend his father told him long ago of the Elamaer line. It was clear there was more to it than he had been told as a boy and he sought out his father to learn more. His father was glad that he had remembered it and thought their history would die with him.

He told Serill of the ancient guardians of Sovyrian and to help him remember gave him the family ring as he no longer had a use for it. The ring was made of mithral and gold creating a web-like pattern on the surface of the ring. It had the power to protect the mind of any who wore it and had been crafted by master ringsmiths for the protection of Elamaer warriors. Serill could never hope to craft with such skill and surely the secrets to it had been lost thousands of years ago on Sovyrian. magical ring gained - Ring of Mind Shielding

Serill visited any relatives or family that he could find to glean more information about the Elamaer name. It was sparse but each new thing filled him with a new purpose. With his old mentor Taralor’s help he soon rose up the ranks of the winter council, intent on doing more to protect the elven race and golarion from the darker folk as he believed an Elamaer protector would.

His rise in power was to be short lived. World events were unfolding that the weakness of the winter council was unable to control. The world knew about their evil cousins and something had to be done. It wasn’t elves that stopped the coming of the second darkness. This was a great blow to his pride. The leader of the winter council betrayed them and it fell apart around him.

He looked for guidance from his old mentor but could not find him and assumed him dead. Not knowing what else to do he again took over management of Taralor’s property and learned that Alagon and the estate was given to him to look after in the event of Taralor’s death. Unsure how he felt about this he was forced to go through every part of his mentor’s business and property and found a darker side that he never expected. Evidence of prisoner interrogation and torture, likely in the service of the winter council was found. One small sad creature was in a cage in a dark corner, forgotten for who knows how long. He freed it but it was too weak to leave and so cared for it till it was strong at which point it was tamed and followed him everywhere. familiar gained - Pseudosphinx

With the now revealed dark past of Taralor, Serill decided to give everything to the care of the elven government in the hopes of clearing himself from his ties to the winter council and starting afresh. He kept only Alagon the giant eagle, and Raden the weakened pseudosphinx, both of whom refused to leave him. He also kept a few other items with permission and clearance from the academy after he passed his second mastery exam.

With a greater title but not a lot of respect among his fellows he decided to leave Kyonin for a while until things died down. Realising the importance of his name and where it came from he asked about Alagon’s origins. The great eagle had no idea where he came from and so Serill searched for as much information about the giant eagles that he could find. What he found led them to northern Varisia, deep into the Kodar mountains.

Alagon did not know the common calls and was attacked by other eagles thinking they were invading their territory. Serill used his magic to talk to them and end the fight. Finally they could get some answers. The eagles reluctantly told them where they could find the oldest of their kind who might have the knowledge they sought. When they found the old eagle he was very near death. Upon seeing Alagon he sensed something in him and cried out. He turned on Serill but was too old and weak to do much. Serill talked to him, assuring him that the one who took his son was now dead. The old eagle relaxed and was grateful to Serill for bringing Alagon back so he could see him before he died. It seemed whatever had kept the old eagle holding on was now gone and he started fading away. With his last breath he blessed Serill and called him King of the Eagles. super power gained - Animal Lord(Giant Eagle)

After spending some time mastering his new abilities and organising the eagles so there would be no fighting over territory when he left, Serill returned to his home and buried his face in books and scrolls again. He had a new purpose. He would found a new organisation to combat the evils of the day. An organisation that would include more than just elves or magic. They would not be crusaders or a secret society, or even something as all round as the pathfinders. They would protect and defend. Elamaer would no longer just be the name of one bloodline of elves but a name people could call upon.

There was much to do and acquiring a base of operations seemed like a necessary first task. Being in Kyonin would make it difficult for other races to join. He wanted to start somewhere central and his eyes could not help but fall on Absalom. The location was perfect but he did not yet have to funds and so turned to the elf Queen with his petition.

Queen Telandia was open to his ideas and was aware of what his name meant but there were others that distrusted and wished to hinder him and still saw his involvement with the winter council as the only thing that mattered. As a compromise, and a way for him to prove himself and gain standing, Telandia appointed him to the elven embassy in Absalom, where he could pursue his goals in his own time but also serve his country and be overseen or supervised by those who doubted him. It was not the ideal situation but one he had no choice but to accept. With a smile, ”Don’t worry Serill. Trust your blood.” were the queens parting words before he went to Absalom.

Fizzle grew up in the strange lands of Varisia were races and cultures came together to form an eclectic melting pot full of gods, legends, governments and philosophies that come with such things. His parents humble Alchemists taught Fizzle and his adoptive sister Glitz a variety of subjects as well as exposed the youths to several of the local denizens and their professions.For Fizzle he kept coming back to the Gnomish Tunnelrat named Glick Gundersnout. This would become his mentor in his teens, but early on he would listen to the Old gnome and his tales of Numeria and the like. Despite his constant shirking of lessons, Fizzles’ natural intelligence and cunning allowed him to finish the necessary studies to get a good base of skills and experience before his apprentice day.

Upon turning 20 the Svirfneblin entered Apprentice day. The Day you go off with a mentor to learn your future trade or profession. To his parents there was no doubt that their adoptive son would head off to learn the strange ways of a Tunnel Rat from Old Glick himself. For Fizzlethrope this meant he too would learn from a master trapper and hunter so he could eventually go on grand adventures himself.Fizzle excitedly took on the new chapter that would cement himself into a level neither he nor his mentor ever foresaw.

The gray skinned youth scrawny and to the rest of the gnomes homely was one of four. Weak and ridiculed by his peers Fizzle didn’t socialize much while they trained under the one legged heavily scarred veteran. Glick and his faithful animal companion, a Boar named Porkchop, drilled the recruits in the ways of not only The Hunt but the Deity of the hunt and community Erastil! Fizzlethrope took to heart his master and his devotion, and decided to give it a try. Despite his fellow Apprentices hitting him with socks stuffed with god knows what the day before the bonding ceremony Fizzle bruised and bleeding a bit went out in search of his first animal companion.

This ceremony,which Glick had called The Bonding, was one which you were sent off to find the right companion for you and your purpose in Erastils plan. For Glick and Porkchop it was a simple he wandered far having fought his mentor in mock combat. Seeking to become a ranger and hunt down Kobolds who threatened the Gold Grinders’ hills and mines, he stumbled in the near by human village named Anders. There drunk after a much needed night of drinks, song, women and food he stumbled out into an alley. The local punks thought it was the right time to rough up a defensely gnome and began to fight him. Glick held his ground, but drunk and definitely out muscled was knocked into a pigsty. At first Porkchop was angry at the little creature that was thrown through his fence, but when the intelligent pig noted the advance of thugs he sprang into action.

For Glick it was a blur, the Boar who had yet to be trained and them sold, or if to obstinate butchered, fought off the four punks. The next morning having passed out in the sty was woken up not only by Porkchops old owner but Porkchop himself. Glick laughed noting the protective nature the boar had shown to him and the kindness it had when it allowed him to get to his feet. After settling the price with the animal training and fixing the fence, he returned to his clan. There the Gnome and BOar would train bond and leave for glory.

For Fizzle he too left battered and bruised. The treatment he suffered for being a Deep Gnome and not a true gnome at the hands of his fellow Apprentices was harsh. The sought to make him leave the service of one of the Gold Grinder Clans heroes. Instead this made the Svirfneblin even more determined. In the Bonding he wandered not into the forest proper but up in to the scrabbly hills. It was here that Fizzle found Honey, his Badger. The Badger who would lead him not only from the clever tunnel rat teachings of his master, but into the depths of an ancient almost primal connection.

The trek through the hills was not fruitful at first. Rabbits, weasels and other rodents scurried away from him fearful that even a tiny humanoid would catch them and eat them. This was the case for the first four days. On the fifth he thought he might had found a wolf, but instead it was a Kobold in a Wolf Pelt. This prompted Fizzlethrope to draw his only weapons a dagger and his walking stick before moving closer. As he did he began to note a group of four or so Kobolds dressed as wolves were eyeing a small hole under some rocks which held nice full rose bushes atop them. The briar was dangerous enough but the entrance into his hole already showed signs of one dead kobold, one who had a miners pick. Fizzle observed closely and watched as two of the four threw lit smokes sticks into the hole.

The two flanked both sides of the tunnel while the other two began to creep forward with spears ready for a charge. Fizzlethrope looked on at the scene wondering what these wolf skin clad dog lizards fought. A shape slowly began to form from the hole and the Kobolds excited that their trick worked gave way there positions as yips of success filled them.

The prey a Badger appeared and quickly went for the ones directly in front of it. Fizzle transfixed by the creature who fell into the trap of one Kobold spear was moving when he thought to just sit by and watch. Something deep inside said this wasn’t a hunt for food but revenge. Revenge for killing a Kobold that probably was threatening it. Fizzle lead with his dagger throwing it at one of the Kobolds. It bit deep into its chest sending it spiralling on its back. Next came a thrust of a spear tip in his direction, but he dodged it, and the kobold received a slash of a claw form the badger. After that the pair made short work of the kobolds.

This is how Honey became his companion. Fierce and savage the Badger welcomed Fizzle as one of her own and the pair returned with weapons and pelts in tow.The next few years of training went by well, the other apprentices dropped from Glicks tutelage until only Fizzle remained. Satisfied the old gnome smiled and congratulated the lad on a fine job and wished him well. Through it all he bonded with Honey, learned to take care of himself, his badger and how to make traps and disarm traps. Combining his upbringing with his parents Alchemy Fizzle set out to join the wider world.

Confident in his abilities Fizzlethorpe left the comfort of the Gold Grinder Clan hold and headed south towards adventure. The trek a long and arduous one lead him to hunt and cook for a few caravans here and there. The hunter even managed to stumble into an adventuring party called the Grey Gargoyles. With them the gnome was steadfast in his job as a scout. Infact after three years with them the Gnome fought Kobolds, Goblins, Orcs, Bandits and some strange cult to a Hyena headed woman.Which his friend the cleric called Lamashtu. Through it all he gained some much needed wealth and experience to propel him further on his goal of becoming a legendary hero!

His time with the Grey Gargoyles was short lived as three of the five members died on the last mission to kill the cult. They failed. Not only did they fail but three of his friends died, and the only other one remaining the bard Amara was disfigured and her fingers which once plucked and played a variety of instruments where broken so much that now she can never play the same way ever again. Lucky for Fizzlethrope he had fallen in a pit and with a bit of searching found a hidden tunnel within. He saved Amara and brought her back to Korvosa where the Grey Gargoyles had operated out of. Downtrodden the deep gnome and his badger have sought out other bands but none so far have stuck out to him. Something deep within is pulling him for greater things, but he has yet to find it.