Hellknight Hill: The Lost Ring

Game Master Joana

Zahel's first time casting magic was surprising occasion for all who had witnessed it. Growing up in a small town in Nirmathas his education had been nearly as free spirited as the country itself. The craftsmen and scholars in the town would take turns allowing the children to watch and learn giving them the choice to follow the path they determined would be best when reaching maturity.

After a few years Zahel had shown little aptitude for scholarly pursuits or any craft available to him but, he had shown some potential with the preforming arts. Specifically the art of story telling grasped him, the way that a skilled story teller could make history or fiction come alive off the pages with a few well placed words. He had even begun to pick up some experience with a lute to accentuate the stories, adding more emotion to each tale.

It was during one of these performances just after his 19th birthday that Zahel's abilities awakened. During an impassioned reciting of an ancient chant spoken by a powerful sorcerer in his favorite story,he changed the words unconsciously. Zahel's eyes glowed with a golden light and fire burst forth from his hands creating a smoldering sphere that lit his instrument ablaze. The only person more shocked than the crowd was Zahel himself. He had always had trouble interacting with those from either side of his heritage but, it seemed another lurked deeper in his blood. This began his pursuit of knowledge, trying to find out what he could about the Dragon blood sleeping within him and the creatures he might finally be able to feel a kin-ship to.

Shaserai was born in a little town on the Five Kings mountains, where his mother Eleara, an elven trader returning to Kyonin from her travels, had to stop unexpectedly due to going into early labor. Aided as she was by a dwarven acolyte of Folgrit, the birth was uneventful, and Eleara gave him his name.
Mother and son were recovering when disaster struck. A freak fire consumed the inn where they were staying. When the fire was put out, they found Eleara dead and her little son fighting for his life. Shaserai was taken to the temple, where acolytes of Folgrit and Torag healed him.
The priest of Torag, Rogar Stonecutter, attempted to find any clues to locate the little elf’s family, but the fire had consumed all of Eleara’s possessions along with her life, thus leaving Shaserai orphaned. Rogar decided to take him in and raise him as his own.
When Shaserai was around 10 years old his nightmares started. They always involved fire, sometimes a woman would try to speak to him but Shaserai couldn’t hear her over the din of the flames, other times he could feel a looming presence behind him, always behind him, as inescapable as the fire that consumed all.
Rogar always comforted little Shaserai, but as he got older dream and reality started to blur. By the time he was fifteen, Shaserai had woken up to find himself surrounded by flames thrice. Rogar helped the boy channel this innate magic and directed his growing obsession with flames to the working of the forge.
Finding in metalworking his passion, Shaserai became an acolyte of Torag, studying under his adoptive father. In his studies of the faiths of Golarion, Shaserai came across the draconic god Dahak and a sense of deja vu came over him. Some instinct told him that Dahak was linked to his fiery nightmares so as his training continued Shaserai took every opportunity to learn about the evil dragon god.

Recently, his dreams started to become more focused and in his last one he saw a statue surrounded by six water towers, all burning along the rest of the town they stood in. Travelers passing through identified the setting of his latest dream as the town of Breachill so Shaserai, with the blessing of his father and superior in the church, traveled there. Hoping find out more about his dreams and help out in case his dream came true an the town burned he joined the Call for Heroes.

A Breachill local with a plucky attitude and a big heart, Tyras Carondil has decided that he is ready to follow in his families footsteps and take part in the towns Call of Heroes and make a name for himself as an adventurer. Even though he knows that it can be a difficult and dangerous road to follow, and one that can be cut tragically short, he is determined to make his own mark on the world and make his family proud.

With his older sister Tyrene having left town the year before to join up with an adventuring company, and their mother having been absent for a few years before that searching for something or someone up in the northern countries, Tyras has been living and training with his Uncle Kellen the head priest of the Desnan temple in town 'The Great Dreamhouse'. Though he has managed to cast a cantrip a time or two, Tyras does not yet have Desna's favour and knows that even once he does, that he probably won't be quite the priest that his uncle is and so has focused on more martial training.

Darla Uskwold is the third of four children born to Trinil Uskwold and her now-deceased husband, Karldan, who was killed in action when the local sheep rustlers suspected to be some rogue goblins or the like instead turned out to be a hungry wyvern. Her family has produced an inordinate number of adventurers over the years, and her two elder brothers have previously answered the Call for Heroes and now travel throughout Isger, Old Cheliax, and wider Avistan in search of glory, honor, and treasure. Darla has become something of a local celebrity, performing at each of Breachill’s taverns (all the better to hear news and rumors from all walks of life), though she’s always present at her mother’s tavern (the Wizard’s Grace) on days that the Call for Heroes is scheduled.

Darla’s day job is making clothing (capes and cloaks are her specialty), which she sells to Winthrop Finney (Crimson Wood Furs) and the charismatic halfling, Crink Twiddleton (Quarters and Bits), who has semi-jokingly suggested that Darla would make him the world’s happiest halfling by marrying him.

Although some of the locals initially expected the young bard to accept a Call for Heroes in the two years since her second-oldest brother did so and left town, most citizens now expect the gregarious young woman to remain in Breachill with her mother and perhaps take over proprietorship of the Wizard’s Grace once Trinil retires. In truth, Darla has been biding her time, waiting both for her younger brother Daltan to reach majority and for just the right mission to come along. That time has come.

”By the decree of our new Lord-Mayor, Jilia Bainilus, slavery is herey abolished in Kintargo.” Urora Sarini looked like she had swallowed a lemon. ”Therefore...” The sour look intensified. ”Therefore, you will all be…entitled, to wages from this day forth. In exchange for continuing to work for me, you will be paid three silver pieces a week.”

Aronida looked around at the other newly-freed slaves, who all seemed as confused as she was. To be free...Aronida had dreamed of it, but in the same way a child might dream of getting a pony. She had never expected it to actually happen.

”Three silver a week?!” Jak was pushing his way through the other slaves, no, servants, they were servants now. Jak was one of the very few slav…servants the Sarinis owned that hadn’t been born into the status. ”You take our freedom from us, you beat us when we try to escape, you insist that we are things to be owned, and then you offer us three silver a week?” He’d made his way to the staircase now, a few steps below where Urora and her bodyguard were standing. ”Here’s what I think of your damn silver.” He spat on the staircase.

Urora sneered down at him. ”You are, of course, free to leave. To starve on the streets with all the other freed slaves. Or you can stay here, and have food, a bed, and a fair wage. It’s up to you.” From the murmuring Aronida could hear, many of them were planning on taking the offer. What else could they do?

It’s up to me…

Jak spat on the staircase again, then turned and started marching out the front door with a few others. Aronida hesitated, then scrambled to join them. ”Jak, wait for me!”

The small house was in sight, and Aronida could feel her crop growing impatient. Nervous shifting. Sidelong glances. They’d been out in the wilderness for five days now, eating only what rations Aronida had in her backpack and what food she could safely hunt, and all of them were eager for the relative safety of the barn.

That made it all the more important to be careful.

Aronida took her time observing the surrounding area. She’d been working this row for two years now; she knew every bush and tree. Was anything out of place? Any shadows that shouldn’t be there? Any hints of movement in the darkness?

She sat for nearly an hour in complete silence before she finally gestured her crop forward. They snuck across the field, low to the ground and quiet, then around the back of the house. The shed was unlocked, as was expected. She went in, carefully ensuring her crop followed her inside, then waited again. Thirty minutes later, finally convinced they hadn’t been followed, she opened the secret trap door and ushered them down the ladder into the cellar.

Malco was there, also as expected. She felt some of her crop flinching from the man, even though they’d been told to expect him. Few halflings in Cheliax could afford to trust humans. Demonstrating her own trust, she stepped forward to greet him with a smile. ”Father Pictor, it’s good to see you again.” See? I know him. I trust him. You’re safe here.

Malco smiled back at her. ”How many times have I told you, it’s Malco. Calling me Father makes me feel old. Besides, I’m a priest of the Drunken God. I don’t need titles. Just ale!” He laughed. ”Speaking of which, I’ve set out a small meal for you all.” He gestured behind him, where there was a halfling-sized table with some bread, cheese, cold meats, and a bottle of wine.

”Thank you...Malco.” She winked at him and sat down, reaching for the cheese. Her crop exchanged a few more nervous glances, then tentatively sat down as well. A few minutes later they were wolfing down the food, and the braver ones had poured themselves glasses of wine. Aronida smiled again as they all started to relax. Once the food was devoured, Malco showed them the cots set up in the back. Most were asleep within minutes.

Good. Aronida was particularly proud of the banter, a routine she and Malco had come up with about a year ago. It helped the crops relax enough to eat and sleep, even in the presence of a strange human. That was important. It would be a few days before another tiller came along to guide them through the next row; if they didn’t trust Malco they’d be too tense to fully regain their strength.

Once everyone was asleep, Malco glanced at her and inclined his head towards the stairs which led up to the house. (All the barns had at least two exits. Safer that way.) She nodded and followed him up to the small kitchen. The curtains over the windows were closed, and as long as she avoided passing between them and the light it shouldn’t be too much of a risk.

He made them both a cup of tea and sat down at the (human-sized) table. ”I thought there’d be more.”

”There were.” She winced. ”Two nights ago there was a Hellknight patrol. We were well-hidden, but as the knights kept getting closer...it’s hard to keep people from panicking. Two of them bolted. I don’t think the Hellknights saw them, they didn’t react, but by the time I felt it was safe to move…” She shook her head and stared into her tea as if it had all the answers. ”I followed their tracks as best as I could, but in the dark, with them running and me not? I couldn’t catch up. Eventually I had to either give up or keep going knowing I was risking everyone’s safety. So...I gave up.”

Malco bit his lip. ”Maybe they’ll make it.”

”Maybe. Or maybe they’ll run into another patrol, or a bear, or just freeze to death because they don’t know where to find shelter.” She sighed. ”I hate losing people.”

”I know.” He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. ”You wouldn’t be doing this work if you didn’t care.”

”It would be easier if I didn’t.” She folded her arms and dropped her head to rest on the table. ”I’m tired Malco. So very tired.” She wasn’t talking about physical exhaustion, and they both knew it.

It happened to all of them sooner or later.

”Maybe it’s time to get some rest.”

Aronida closed her eyes. ”Maybe.”

Home.

Aronida had never had one. She’d lived in the Sarini mansion for almost her entire life, but it had certainly never been home. After being freed she’d been too nervous to stay in one place for long. When she wasn’t working the rows she’d wandered from town to town, selling furs to buy the few supplies she needed. Never staying though. Not even in an inn. The only times she slept in a bed were when she’d finished escorting her latest crop to a barn that had an extra.

(”You can’t keep doing this,” Malco had told her. ”You’re killing yourself. You need to rest, really rest, somewhere away from all this.” He’d knelt down to her level, hands on her shoulders, eyes full of concern. ”Look, have you ever heard of Breachill?”)

Breachill wasn’t what she’d expected. Small towns tended to be insular, as distrusting of outsiders as she was of, well, almost everyone. She’d walked up to Cayden’s Keg half-expecting to be thrown out on her ear. Instead Brynne had quickly skimmed the letter of introduction Malco had given her and promptly offered to let her stay as long as she liked.

(”How is that old rascal anyway? Still living on that farm in the middle of nowhere?” Brynne had laughed. ”Any friend of Malco’s is a friend of mine. Come on, I’ve got a spare room upstairs.”)

It wasn’t just Brynne either. Nearly everyone was friendly, or at least polite. When she stuck around, hunting for game out in the forests or offering her services as an archer during the monthly Call for Heroes, people quickly accepted her as another member of the community. She slowly started to relax. To feel safe.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt safe.

Now here she was, staring at a wooden door as though it was going to bite her. Tentatively, she reached out and opened it.

A small, cosy common room. A fireplace with a comfortable halfling-sized chair in front of it. A kitchen with counters she could reach without a step stool. A bedroom with a mattress exactly the way she liked it.

”Told you I could get you some nice furniture for cheap. Crink would never let on, but he’s an old softy at heart. What do you think?”

”I think…” Aronida smiled even as she blinked away a few tears. ”I think it looks like home.”

Aronida, (she has no idea what her last name might have been), was born into slavery in Kintargo, serving the Sarini family. Upon being freed she was left unsure of what to do with her new life. Any time she stepped foot in a city she always felt like she was about to be captured and sold again. At the same time she wanted to free others as she had been freed. The compromise was to work for the Bellflower Network as a tiller, escorting escapees through the wilderness.

After several years of this, she began to feel homesick for a home she'd never had. She still distrusted cities, but didn't want to spend her whole life in the wilderness either. A contact from the Bellflower Network suggested Breachill. As a small town that welcomed adventurers of any background, she could surely find work there, and maybe, just maybe, she could make it her home.

Breachill was boring for a young Gnome, or for an older Gnome for that matter.That became apparently painfully apparent to Tiji after he parents ditched her with a family friend named Fadelby Vusker(as found in the player's guide). While Fadelby was reliable and kind he was also rather boring. The good part though was that as a wainwright he'd have many travellers coming to his stores and most of them were eager to tell stories of their travels to someone who'd actually hang from their lips.

It were these stories that eventually made Tiji decide to leave Breachill for now matter how good they were actually experiencing something like that would be even better. And then she could come back to Breachill and tell her story to some other eager child.
It was one particular story that informed the destination of Tiji's travel. A merchant proudly told her about how a temporary guard he had hired had turned out to be one of the Red Mantis Assassins using that job as a cover. Of course no one believed him, the Red Mantis were expected to know better than be found out, but Tiji ate it all up and from that moment she wanted to join the Red Mantis. The description of the outfit sounded cool, as did wielding those nasty swords and above all, they got to see the world. So after doing a little further research into where the Red Mantis were from Tiji made the long journey to Mediogalti Isle.

Suffice to say things weren't as she had hoped. The travel was exciting but also harsh. Once someone confused her for an escaped Halfling slave and tried to capture her only to quickly drop her when it was discovered she was a Gnome, and without any word of apology!
The Isle itself wasn't much better. There were pirates all over the main city and the assassins turned out to be everything but glamorous and none were actually interested in a little Gnome. Eventually she fell in with some kindly old Mwangi ladies who spend their days out on their porches doing all kinds of textile work and all wore lovely, brightly coloured shawls somewhere about their person. They taught Tiji how to knit and weave and make rugs and they told her many stories about a goddess they called Nana Anadi or Grandmother Spider. Apparently she was the little sister of Achaekek, the god the the Red Mantis worshipped, and because they were her priestesses they claimed Mediogalti was one of the safest places they could be in.

It wasn't that safe for little Gnomes though as Tiji discovered while out shopping for yarn in the early morning. Some drunk pirates had gotten it into their heads that the world was to blame for their ill luck and lashed out at the first person they found. It was through sheer luck that Tiji managed to evade a swipe with a cutlass. Then she ran for it while the pirates gave chase. Tiji ran and ran, paying little attention to other people or to the fact that she eventually left the city limits behind her. Nor did she notice in time that the ground she tried to step on was not there and she tumbled down from the road and into the jungle that covers almost the entire Isle.

Unable to climb back up the small cliff she had fallen from, Tiji tried to find her way around and in doing so only managed to land herself deeper in the jungle. While the first day or two were mostly marked by hiding and trying very hard not to be found by whatever made all those loud noises during the night she then shifted to a sort of survival mode. Out of necessity mostly as the hunger started to take it's toll. To her own surprise she found she could adapt to her new world pretty quickly, if she'd just put her back in it. Before long she had made herself a little hut and gathered enough food to last her a few days. Or so she thought as the next day she found the stash of eggs she had carefully collected from the nests of different birds had been burgled. When she managed to follow the trace of eggshell shards and yolk that the thief had left behind she found what she originally thought was some big bird, with it's many coloured feathers, but it turned out be some sort of juvenile, well, something. Tiji instantly took pity on it as it was clearly emaciated and hungry. So instead of chasing it off Tiji started to help the creature fed. As the creature recovered it in turn started helping Tiji and the two quickly developed a fast friendship.

The next step would be for the both of them to get out the jungle, something that only took Tiji a day with the help of her new friend, and then leaving the isle to get back to her hometown. Together they stowed away on a ship headed for Egorian in Cheliax and despite everything the travels were smooth. Perhaps it was the sight of a weird, feathered lizard with razor sharp teeth and a machete for a toenail that scared the bandits.

By the time the AP starts Tiji has been back in Breachill for five days and has spent most of that time hearing what had happened in town and sharing her own stories. When the call for adventurers came Tiji could hardly contain herself. Had she brought some excitement with her from abroad?

Ren, as he was simply called back when he was an orphan living in the streets of Westcrown and surviving mostly thanks to his quick fingers and even quicker wit, had always been curious. And it was that curiosity that ultimately set him on the path to magic when one night he found himself in the so-called Coin Sector of the Parego Spera. There was a particular store there, a magical curios shop maintained by a middle-aged artisan and mage by the name of Noravia Crispin, that had stoked the young boy's imagination time and again. And on that night he was determined to see with his own eyes what magic was hiding behind its walls and windows and -why not- perhaps leave the place with some of it. Unfortunately -or fortunately, as it perhaps turned out in the end- things did not go quite like he had planned. Long story short, a tripped magical alarm and more than a few broken items of some worth later and Ren found himself apprehended and then sentenced to several years of termed enslavement with the wronged party, i.e. the store's proprietress, as his master, or mistress in this case.

Noravia Crispin was certainly strict on more than one occasion, but she was also fair and, in her own way, kind. And quite perceptive. It did not take her long to recognize the boy's keen mind and thirst for knowledge. Thus, slowly but surely, their relationship changed as she started to view the boy as less of a slave and more of a pet project, eventually taking it upon herself to educate him in various matters ranging from history to religion to politics -not his favorite subject, by the way- to, eventually, magic. And then finally, when his sentence concluded and he chose to remain with her, she would view and treat him as an apprentice.

Now Ren is no longer an apprentice, having "graduated", so to speak, into a wizard of some skill, albeit not a powerful one really. Not yet. Even so, he still runs the occasional errand for Noravia, in part because he is quite fond of the older woman he has come to view as his adoptive mother in all but name and in part because those errands usually involve a bit of traveling. And it is one such errand that brings him to Breachill, not for the first time it should be noted.

Noravia has been corresponding and now and then trading books with Voz Lirayne, the half-elf owner of the Reliant Book Company. And it is the delivery of a book to the bookseller that has Ren visit the town once more. This time though, having no other prior engagements after handing the book over, he has decided to remain a little while. In his previous visits to the town he heard whispers and rumors of hidden secrets revolving around the town's past and its founder, Lamond Breachton. He understands of course that more often than not rumors are nothing more than, well, rumors. Unfounded hearsay. Even so, that curiosity of his, the same one than made him the man he is today, was piqued. And with Breachill's monthly Call of Heroes only a couple of days away, he may as well try to kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes; test his skills with magic and perhaps uncover a secret or two about this place. If there are any that is.

They came for her family, her verdant home. They came on leathery wings, silent through the night. They took what they wanted, pillaged and fed, then destroyed the rest. They made a mistake: they left her to die, blind to anything contrary to what they thought would happen. She intends to make them rue their pride as they suffer, or be consumed trying - or perhaps, AND be consumed trying. She has had years to recover, study, and grow strong. Oh, and to seethe. The hunt is on; Gwemolatta just needs a hunting party - one that doesn’t mind her obsession.

Although Shifty grew up among the vicious goblin tribes of the Varisian coast he never really fit in. You see he was an outsider among the goblins. His father had come to the tribe from far away Isger, and only lived there few weeks before he left, disgusted by their evil ways. Little did he know, that in his brief time there he sired a child.

Now, 5 years later Shifty, was similarly disgusted with the ways of his tribe. Hearing stories about how his father had left the tribe, Shifty fled east into the wilderness seeking out the town of Breachill. One week later he realized he had no idea how to survive in the wilderness, and was on the verge of death. Fortunately a good hearted druid found him, nursed him back to health, and taught him the basics of druidcraft. Now finally able to achieve his goals, Shifty has returned to Breachill, the city of his lost father.

Sia is actually a member of the Kyonin royal family, Sialea Telandia, and she has chosen to leave her home land to learn more about the humans and other races in the nearby countries. She doesn't have any intention of using her royal connections in any shape or form as she wants to accomplish this on her own.

Talathel was born in Iadara, the capital city of the elven nation of Kyonin. His parents were both high-ranking professors at the city's wizard academy, and he was expected to follow in their footsteps. However, after only a few classes at the academy, he decided that he had no interest in spellcasting, but instead had an intense passion for the alchemical arts. It was this nearly obsessive interest that led him to the city of Greengold, where non-elves were welcome, and he could apprentice with a human alchemist from Thuvia. In Greengold he made several human friends, and he eventually became fed up with Kyonin's isolationist policies. He left Kyonin, choosing to instead wander the land, offering his services as an alchemist and healer, and picking up bits and pieces of alchemical knowledge everywhere he went. Breachill is his most recent destination, and he sees the Call for Heroes as an opportunity to meet new people, or at the very least, learn something new.

How did Nokfijit become a Bard?
He wants to know everything. And he likes to share what he knows, including poetry, stories, and songs. But also lore and random facts.

What does Nokfijit look like?
He wears glasses, but he refuses to use goggles so they are always sliding down his nose. His brightly colored hair sticks in all directions, as he never combs it down. His limbs and fingers are more spindly than a typical gnome, enhancing his alien and feylike appearance.

How does Nokfijit behave?
He is somewhat flighty in social settings, but years of research has taught him how to settle down and focus on a single task. He is kind hearted when it occurs to him, but he is motivated primarily by knowledge (true neutral).

Why is Nokfijit on this adventure?
To learn more things, of course! Experiences, treasure, etc. Are nice too.

Which nation did Nokfijit grow up in? How did this nation influence them?
He was a bit of a wanderer before he was captured and ended up enslaved in Kintargo.

What does Nokfijit love?
Spicecakes. Books of all kinds. Stories about dragons.

What does Nokfijit hate?
Goggles. Hobgoblins. Chelaxian slavers.

How does the race of Nokfijit influence their views? Is Nokfijit a stereotype of a certain race? How are they different from most characters of their race?
His gnomish, fey heritage gives him an alien perspective and a powerful hunger for new knowledge. Although he seems flighty in conversation, he is actually very steadfast when he sets his mind on something. He does not frequently change his mind, nor rush into things anymore than an average human might. In these ways he is different from other gnomes, who tend to flit from interest to interest.

What is Nokfijit afraid of? Does Nokfijit have any phobias or worries?
He is terrified of being enslaved again. His time as a slave very nearly bleached him.

What is the most treasured possession of Nokfijit?
His freedom.

What are at least 5 background and concept elements for Nokfijit?
Hungry for knowledge of all kinds.
Fascinated and inspired by dragons in particular.
Has a nearly perfect memory for book knowledge, facts, and the like. But he doesn't necessarily remember things about living people around him very well--unless his brain can find a way to store them as facts that might be important on the future.

What are at least two goals for Nokfijit?
Become the most knowledge person alive.
Meet and talk to a dragon and live to talk about it.

What are at least three people that are tied to Nokfijit?
He is not close with his family.
He is fast friends with a halfling that was a slave with him. She helped him avoid the bleaching by telling him things she knew and sharing poems, stories and songs.
He has traveled in the past with a human fighter.
He is quite upset with a wizard that stole a tome from him before he could finish ingesting the knowledge in it.

What are at least three memories, mannerisms, or quirks that Nokfijit has?
He frequently has to shove his glasses back up his nose. While his hands are there, he will then rub his nostrils with the back of a hand or finger.
He distinctly remembers the moment he was made a slave. He also remembers the moment he learned of his freedom.
He holds a finger up and nods when reciting facts.

Grigore is an old cleric of Desna who left the life on the road to settle down with his beloved many, many years ago. But after the loss of his only son first and his wife later, he became cranky and ill-tempered, losing interest for most things except the true story beyond Breachill's foundation.

Grigore joins the Call for Heroes mainly to earn the favor of the council and to be able to discuss with the councilmen his theories about the town's founder. He also wants to get back on the road, probably the only thing in life that could still make him feel happy.

Aurelia Landon has been obsessed with dragons all her life, and really, why wouldn't she be? Dragon blood literally ran in her veins, her elven great-grandfather having won the love of a gold dragon centuries ago. Born to a duo of “eccentric” dragonologists from Taldor, Aurelia was constantly exposed to the arcane power of dragons as her parents traveled the world in search of their chosen subjects, resulting in Aurelia’s latent draconic powers emerging. Though her parents were thrilled by the development, Aurelia came to resent it as her father and mother started to treat her as more of a prize specimen that an actual daughter. As Aurelia grew to adulthood, these feelings would grow, eventually driving her to step out of her parent's shadow and try to name for herself in academia independent of their control.

This quest for self-knowledge and renown lead Aurelia to come to Isger, and eventually, the town of Breachill, after she heard news of a gold dragon sighting in the area. Unfortunately, not soon after reaching the small town, Aurelia quickly found herself adrift as the rumors, and her money, started to dry up. The simple fact is Aurelia needs more coin if she wants to continue her studies and travels, and though mercenary heroism has never been one of her interests, the Call for Heroes seems like just the solution for her financial woes.

Born the middle child of the Cotton family which consisted of four sisters, her father, aunt and one cousin. Together, they ran Isger's most authentic gnomish themed Food Wagon, 'Cotton's Coach Cookery '. The mobile restaurant consisted of a few connected dining car wagons that could hold up to twenty guests at a Since Gnomes of Golarion tend to lack any actual culture of their own, the Cookery is themed towards a Gnomes general main focus, satisfying their need for the exotic.
As such, the majority of their menu consisted of ingredients from various fauna/flora encountered by adventurers. Beholder stalk kebabs! Sweet and Sour Roc! Dragon turtle soup! Food most average folk would never taste otherwise. The restaurant also, as it tends to move around, provides typical local cuisine to ingratiate themselves with regional customers with less curious palates.

The children learned the inside and out of how to operate an eatery working for most of their youth and gnome equivalent of early twenties there. Poppy was the least interested in the Cookery, while curiosity being a defining trait of hers as it is for most gnomes but
she found her focus towards music. She found that learning the patterns and different rhythms gave her a greater appreciation for the art as there was always more to explore.And so she decided to devout her time to explore dusty tomes(for sheet music to copy and mystery stories to retell her siblings), found in the local library or bookstore in whatever town they were visiting. She would often play at lunches and dinner if the mood struck her, sometimes joined by locals.

Her sister, Anise, and their cousin Briony started in the kitchen, but as they grew up, took over their late mother's role of collecting beast parts via adventuring. A decent portion of their stock now is now acquired via trade with local adventurers after an incident in her youth. One season, while ther Cookery was visiting Breachill,
Anise and Briony went missing in the near the city, leaving the wagon without a source of satisfactory product for over a week at the busiest time of the year during the so called 'Call of Heroes'. Lilly, the second eldest sister convinced her and the second youngest, Briar, that it was their responsibility, to find their family and save the Cookery
Lilly used Poppy's discerning eye for detail and Briar's skill with arms, to investigate their siblings disappearance. Though just young adults, the three made a good team tracking down leads and finding visual clues over a couple of rainy days and found that their older siblings had been taken advantage by their current adventuring party.
The traitorous party members were holding them hostage to demand payment(specialized tools, magic items, rare monster materials) from the Cookery for their release. But the trio found and helped their siblings but not without cost. Briony was injured in the crippled to save the others, gaining a limp and Poppy was struck hard by a the blunt side of a miss-aimed axe in the head which resulted in an immediate loss of hearing and then a gradual decline of hearing due to traumatic brain injury.

Her family stayed in town until she recovered from the injury in all ways but the deafness and growing nihlistic cynicism. Weeks turned into a month and her anxious father, a better cook and business man than dad, took his sister's, Dhalia, offer to watch his wounded daughter(Briony needed time to recover) and help her through her trauma, as she was already. Dhalia would acquire a job at Cayden's Keg as a cook, providing for Poppy and Briony over the building months. Growing bitter and falling into despair at the thought of her great passion
being lost to her, she became a recluse, hiding herself at the Breachill Archive to the point where she began to suffer some effects of "The Bleaching". Knowing her voice would sound different she attempted different forms of communication, with the help of her Aunt,including a chalkboard(awkward), and sign language(less widely known) she eventually settled on using her innate gnomish magic to Prestidigitation to craft temporary words in the air. Though uncomplex, it was nice to be able to find her voice in one small way, but couldn't seem to ultimately shake her depression, but it was progress. They also attempted teaching her confidence playing the ramshackle piano at Caydens Keg.This went on for some time until her Aunt took her and her cousin to Egoria where they'd last heard the family had set up shop. Once there they found the Cookery had moved on. While they were disappointed, they too took the opportunity to enjoy the cited before leaving again. For Poppy, the change of venue offered her a new outlook and she embraced the cozy entrenched culture. The most striking moment of her time there was when Dhalia took her to the Chelish Opera as a final step of her recovery. Initially she was embarrassed and angry at her for subjecting her to what seemed like an uncharacteristic cruel jest. But her Aunt managed to acquire seats near the orchestra by calling in a few favors from their time working the food wagon circuit, and had her touch the instruments as they played. Her passion was instantly reborn as she could recognize the music and tell from the differing vibrations how skilled they were. She could hear it all in her head! The music was back.

After finding herself again, she decided to stay behind in Egoria once her aunt and cousin were ready to rejoin her family on the road, promising to meet them again and thanking them for their help. Her aunt made her promise that if she ever did pick up adventuring, to document them in a cookbook. Deciding to follow her passion in the evenings by practicing in her tiny apartment and pursuing a career in detective work using her natural skills and jack of all knowledges to correct wrongs she found throughout the city. And all that was left of her injury and Bleach stages was a white streak shooting through her garnet locks and a simmering cynicism.Besides her renewed sense of purpose, she fell into part time Private investigative work, after a series of failures in other jobs. Using her extensive knowledge base and attention to detail to aid her in her short stint as a Chelish Investigator, assisting anyone from nobles, counsel of the Chelish courts, and even the Hellknight order. She learned in her time as a P.I. that people maylie with their words but couldn't hide the truth on their faces and found lip reading to also be a great boon to her work. Besides the money, she received from one particularly pleased
client a payment in trade in the form of a beautifully crafted Orphica which she took to learning more easily thanks to her time behind the keys.After a decent number of happy and investigative years, she heard her family Cookery was headed towards Breachill in time for the 'Call for Heroes'. Facing some existential angst which she combated by trying to find closure. She decided to close her business and tie up some lose ends in Breachill, she has come home in search of the next step of her life.

--Order of the Rack
Maralictor Lucien Mahrbrand
Incident Report file 481
Case opened 28 of Arodus 4705
Case closed 30 of Arodus 4705
Crime- Armiger Nathaniel Fukes murdered and heretical vandalism.
Reported by local Korvosan guard.
Location- Basement of abandoned Crow's Kiss Inn, south Dice End, Egorian
Evidence-No wounds, all weapons sheathed, heretical writing on inner wall, room locked from inside with no other points of egress, No signs of poisoning, Signifiers found no evidence of Abjuration magic.
Suspects- None. Guilty party found and prepped for trial. Krom "Wraithringer"-enforcer for local gambling den.
Notes- Amateur investigator Poppy Cotton served as advisor on previous cases and solved this issue with great expediency and skill. Eccentric behavior aside, this agent would greatly advocate the use of this person in future incidents.
Hail Lictor Richemar Almansor

Freydis's humming echoed across the high stone walls of the church, and a rhythm emerged, built by the tapping of her heavy metal boot. Intermittently the sound of tearing paper punctuated the eerie tune as Freydis ripped page after page from holy tome of Shelyn, piling them onto a growing pyre that was once a podium. The pale woman's face wrinkled into a soft smile as she watched the flame take the blasphemous parchment, bits rising into the air, almost dancing in the light cast through stained glass windows. The whimsical sight inspired her to recite in slow song form, a verse she learned in childhood from the forbidden canticle of Lady Graves.

"Eyes sorrow-blinded, in darkness unbroken
Foul and corrupt are those who bear false witness,
And work to deceive others, know this;"

The last page smoldering, Freydis tossed the binding of the book and surveyed her handiwork, the pews filled with fresh corpses, the ages of which ranged from young adult to seniors. The lumbering armored woman took a soft stride along the aisle patiently blessing the nearest people with holy water from her Combat Aspergillium. Flecks of anointed liquid dripped across the lifeless faces of the dead, but otherwise seemingly uninjured crowd.

"There is but one Truth.
Whatever your maker,
The Ebon City calls to all, "

The cleansing had ended in a second. Upon first entering the church, she’d been received warmly, but only responded with stoicism until hearing the preaching of the so-called priest. His words were sin. His teachings poison. With a gesture of her gauntleted hand and holy symbol of Pharasma, Fredyis released a flash of concordant energy before the patrons knew what had happened. The souls of the congregation were torn from their form retrieved by her spectral hounds, bound to her call, and promptly delivered to her godly mistress in the underworld. There was no time for screams, and in a moment the once lively church had fallen silent. She was glad they had not suffered.

"o’ Lady mine, my enemies are abundant,
Many are those who rise up against me,
But my faith sustains me, I shall not fear the legion"

Continuing her lilting hymn, Freydis exited the temple into the snowy hamlet of Valeroot, descending the stairs with piercing amber eyes fixed on the only signs of life left in the winter town, ample fields of wheat rolled out across a nearby plain. Rows upon rows of golden full stalks pierced through several feet of snow in a bizarre juxtaposition of the season. Removing her glove, her exposed fingers traced lightly across the yellow plants. She could feel the tug trace of necromantic energy that sustained the plants, stolen from animals and occasional human sacrifice.

“Suffer not the work of a heretic.”

Gray colored flames suddenly poured from the anointed weapon in her other hand and she dipped it into the straw lengths. Freydis watched quietly as the blaze took hold, and left only after the ill-gotten plants had fallen to cinders.

Rodlen grew up with his Human mother in Breachill. He was very studious as a child, but that lead him to being bullied by other children. Most of the people that Rodlen interacted with wanted to become valiant warriors and treated magic as cheating because it "requires no effort". Rodlen, however, believed that taking the easier route is better, but he also knew that learning magic required devotion to a god, hard study, or getting lucky and having a magic bloodline. The arguments in his friend group went so far that Rodlen felt the need to prove to his friends that magic really was stronger. The way he decided to go about this was by learning to use arcane magic through study and intellect. Rodlen's way of thinking drew him to worship Nethys, the god of magic. He was a very intelligent child, and his studies of the arcane arts not only led him to power, but also to developing a new thesis about arcane magic, titled "On the Method of Shifting Preparations Within Limited a Short Time" After developing this thesis, Rodlen needed to draw attention to his thesis as well as proving that his beliefs were correct, he decided that he needed to become a famous adventurer in order to finally prove himself right.
(It is my plan that, over the adventure, Rodlen will learn that all members of the party need each other to truly succeed)