Beagan Wyvernspur's page

The gnomes of Clan Mithril are unlike their any of their kin - they act more like dwarves than gnomes. Even their name made this much evident. They live underground in the Wyvernspur Mountains and like the dwarves seem as comfortable in the endless night of caverns as they do above ground. While their fellows gnomes regard them oddly, they are steadfast companions with the svirfneblin and dwarves of and under the mountain range.

In truth, these unusual alliances were born of survival millennia ago. During the time of the Thassilonian empire, magic was strong and the boundaries between the worlds were weak. It was under these circumstances that the gnomes of Clan Mithril (the adopted name they would take) first crossed over from the First World. (More accurately, they were forced into Golarion). And they did so in the midst of a war of survival between the dwarves & giants. Thrust into this strange world, they readily allied with the dwarves. As a matter of survival they became warriors against the ogres, giants and their kin. They would come to understand that others had made the crossing from the First World, but it was of their own accord and in a time and place of their choosing. These gnomes chose the beauty of the forest and wandered the new land looking merely to experience it. For those in Clan Mithril experience could only be earned after survival. Initially the dwarves saw them as wayward children – good meaning but lost. The svirfneblin helped them integrate into the mountain and gave them the gift of true sight (darkvision). In return these gnomes pledged an oath of defense to their benefactors.

In the last 100 years the times have gotten darker. Senseless, poorly coordinated attacks have now been organized by some unseen malicious force. Previously they faced ogres, hill giants and the occasional troll. Now, though, stone giants have appeared to lead the creatures. The stalemate that lasted for eons has changed and the gnomes and dwarves are dying. It is into these dark times that Beagan was born. Like all others in his clan, he was raised to be a warrior and under the tutelage of his dwarven warmaster he became a solider. Unique among his people he was a conjurer and this was considered both a boon and a curse. The last conjurer among his people had been born in the First World. Despite his magical skills there was a spreading shadow that grew further every time Beagan called forth one of his fantastical creatures from the ether – for it was foretold that when such magic would appear again the derro would return.

Decades passed and the war continued. Ominous signs were forgotten as the gnome and dwarven losses grew greater every day. Then, in the peak of their desperation the creatures arrived. First as terrible whispers that echoed the caverns. Next bloody carcasses of surface beasts with their entrails arranged in cryptic figures. The gnomes and dwarves debated what to do with the insane, murderous creatures. To fight them as the well as the giants would be certain death. One night they held council and heatedly debated which was the worse fate. It was then that the derro messenger appeared - a strange creature with madness in its eyes, and it offered them a deal. The derro would offer the help of their allies, the spriggans, and in return they would “study” the conjurer and “bless” him with the prophecy. For a moment the temptation proved almost too strong – the sacrifice of one for the good of the many. Were they not, soliders? Despite their murderous ways, the insanity of the derro also allowed them the gift of prophecy. When reasoning returned, however, the ambassador was nearly driven away at spear-point. The insane, cackling creature may have disappeared into the darkness forever had not Beagan heard the request himself. Over the objections of his clan and their allies he accepted the offer – for one year he would go with the Derro after which they would return him and provide the prophecy.

The year passed in agony as “study” proved to be an unending end of alchemical experiments. The derro hoped to divine the source of his power to add it to their own. Yet the odd creatures were also true to their word – this was provided to him in the form of mixing his own blood with that of the spriggans and returning it to his body. It was these machinations that led him to become much more than the summoner he was once. It allowed him mutate much like the spriggans he was surrounded by. Though painful and horrific to look upon, he could become a feral giant, filled with strength and ready for battle. This was their blessing to him. When the year ended, much to the surprise of everyone, the derro honored their promise. The gnomes and dwarves had already lamented and mouned for the death of Beagan, holding no faith in the derro’s idiosyncratic ways. They returned Beagan to his people . Although his mind was not broken, his body appeared so. Almost as if he had become one of them he bore their markings – a shock of silver, spiky hair, a moustache, and blue-grey skin. He was accepted back as a warrior and even lauded for this sacrifice. But like any injured warrior he was treated differently and no longer felt that he belonged. When he would transform into the hulking beast, this distinction was compunded. Regardless, he expected to live out his days as a solider. And he may have until the final part of the bargain was completed. One year after Beagan returned they were delivered the prophecy – a thin parchment made of human skin, on which, written in blood it said:
A town, the goblins, break the chain,
A city, murderers will be made plain.
Xin, like you, has been the fool,
Crush greed, then break the giants rule.

For days the oracles convened to make sense of the words – lunatic derro writings or something more? Finally they emerged with a glimmer of divine guidance. To Sandpoint, far to the west, clues would be provided to unravel the truth. The war council convened to determine who would be sent even though all knew who in their mind should take on this burden. Before the vote had occurred Beagan had collected his belongings and presented himself to them. Having lived through their ways, having their blessing and being the only conjurer of their people it was clearly his fate. He was provided with a small amount of gold, a blessing and under these circumstances he left his people – possibly forever.

Gnomes are an odd folk amongst most other races, but Beagan is odd amongst gnomes. He claims to be a gnome, acts like a dwarf and looks very little like either. He stands 3’6” tall and weighs forty pounds. He has a shock of silver-colored hair and a thick silver moustache that somehow seems to fit with his blue-grey skin. Despite all this, he walks and speaks with a calm confidence – of one who has seen and lives through much. He is on the cusp of middle-age but does not seem worn down or tired. There is an energy in his eyes that says his time is just beginning.

DC 20, Knowledge (dungeoneering): Beagan appears to look like a gnome version of a derro.

Beagan has lived and still sees himself as a solider. He is on a mission and intends to complete it. Had his people lived in better times he may have thought there to be more limits on doing what is necessary to accomplish a goal. However, he is a child of war. He lost both parents and most of his family to it. War will not hold back and similarly he will not. While he does not overtly lie or manipulate others, he can be ruthless in pursuing a goal or in persecuting an evil creature. He does not believe in offering mercy or quarter to clearly evil creatures – this only allows them the opportunity to continue their amoral behavior. Although he does not chase after evil-doers, he finds it very difficult to look the other way when he sees injustice occurring. He feels no remorse and asks for no understanding – one must sacrifice in war. While he holds strong convictions, he is polite with those he meets and understands one learns more from listening than from speaking.