Mel Eria's page

About Mel Eria

A dark-skinned Varisian born in the shady city of Kaer Maga, Mel Eria got his love of magic to alter blood and manipulate negative energy from his much-venerated grandfather, Dypth Eria. A child of the streets, Mel made a living serving as a guide to non-natives through the chaotic fortress city for coin. Locals to the city tend to look hostile to outsiders, especially if they don't seem to approve of the lawlessness of the city. With Mel in party, many people let travelers through with little hostility. When troubles did arise, Mel would just use magic to debilitate his foes and leave them in the streets. Tales of Mel's crippling magic leaving a small band of thugs unable to stand under the weight of in their own armor as well as his long line of powerful sorcerers in his family earned Mel the respect of most of the city, as they didn't see Mel as easy prey.

On a cloudy afternoon, Mel was chartered to lead a group of five Shoanti from the Lyrune-quah (Moon tribe) of the nearby Cinderlands to the lair of a fairly secretive and notorius bloatmage named Garbgall for an audience. Never one to ask questions or check his clients' credentials if they were able to pay the fee, Mel agreed and took to the streets. The meeting was to take place in a building shared by a small number of bloatmages to conduct meetings, often to exchange magic items enchanted by the powerful bloatmages for money or favors.

“Eria, are these... the ones?” the rather corpulent Garbgall questioned, as a veiled assistant put a new leech on him. Two hired guards stood near the elevated platform where Garbgall lay surrounded by burning incense.
“Yep-erooni. This is them,” Mel said, bowing and gesturing Shoanti in. “I'll just wait outside until you guys are done, fellas.”

Mel backed out of the room, closing the many velveteen curtains behind him, and sat in the lobby twiddling his thumbs until he could receive his payment for escort. The interior of the building was rather posh for the dilapidated neighborhood it was in, but that was somewhat understandable considering the large sums of money the business pulled in. Mel looked around for a few candies or trinkets to tuck away into his pack when no one was looking, but the usual guests apparently weren't trusted enough to leave anything of even slight value unglued to the floor.

Inside the room, the five Shoanti stood in front of Garbgall silently.
“Go on. State your business,” Garbgall demanded, impatiently.

The youngest of the bunch, a boy easily identifiable as about maybe 16 years old as his tribal tattoos were still fresh, stepped forward in silence. His face bright red and holding back rage as he stared right into Garbgall's eyes. It took a while before Garbgall realized that many of the features on the boy looked familiar. A look of shock overcame Garbgall as he remembered a Shoanti woman he conned into buying a cursed magical item about 12 years ago.

“No... Guards, make sure he doesn't get any clos--”, Garbgall tried to mutter. The boy yelled, took leap and made for Garbgall's throat with a tribal dagger. The guards, sensing trouble had moved to intercept before Garbgall even recognized the boy, and blocked his charge. The other four drew their bows and flooded the room with arrows. Garbgall, still covered in leeches, managed to shield himself with magic from the only a small portion of hail of arrows. One of the guards was struck in the neck and fell as he tried to rush the skilled Shoanti hunters.

Mel, greatly unaware of details of the proceedings up to this point, heard the commotion. He sat idly, as not to run into the middle of firefight and so as not to attract attention to himself. The curtain in the lobby flew open and four bow-wielding Shoanti and a boy with the dagger were magically forced out of the audience chamber. Mel was shocked to see five large men pushed out of a chamber with a great gust of wind, grab their belongings, scramble to their feet, and dart from the building as fast as they could.

In shock, Mel slowly approached Garbgall's chamber. Garbgall waddled and limped his way to the door, forcefully pulling arrows out of his fatty flesh. The guard with three arrows protruding from him tried to provide aid to his fallen fellow guard and the fatally wounded leech assistant, with no use.

“What in the hell happened?” Mel asked, puzzled.
“Eria! You set me up, traitor!” Garbgall, said as he imbued his hand with magical electric energy. “Fry like the worm you are!”

Mel barely dodged out of the way of the enraged Garbgall's shocking grasp, and instinctively struck back with a dagger on his side. Mel didn't see where the blow connected, but let go of the dagger as it hit and fell to the floor off-balance.

“It came from over here!” More of Garball's hired goons rushed the room, only to stop in the doorway. Mel looked back and squad of seven men stand shocked. The sound of splashing drops filled Mel's right ear. Not paying attention to anything but the guards, Mel caught a glimpse of several drops of blood hitting the floor next to him. What started as a few drops became a stream as a blood flowed down Garbgall's robes. Looking up, he could see his knife hanging from a wound in the bloatmage's neck. The bloatmage wobbled and fell face first as he lost consciousness as he started to bleed out. With the force of the fall, the excess blood that bloatmages store to power their magic projected out of the neck wound about a foot and a half, sending the dagger in his neck flying, and pushed off most of the leeches that weren't crushed.

The magics that allow bloatmages to create excess blood to power magic isn't stoppable, and they are known hemophiliacs. Mel knew that there was no way the mage would be able to recover from that gaping would. He grabbed what he could and scrambled the same way the Shoanti before him left the building. The lawless city of Kaer Maga could no longer be his home, as he knew Garbgall's associates and connections in the town would not be very happy that their main supply of magical items had been severed.

After spending the night hiding, he bought passage he could on the first boat he could out of Varisia, no matter the destination. His destination was Absalom, city at the center of the world. He figured he could use his abilities to earn coin by uncovering valuable relics and well as see the world; two things which Varisians are known for their love of. With only the 150 gold pieces he had left Mel, set out for a new life as Pathfinder.