Semagoro's page

About Semagoro

Semagoro
Aria the Thrush

When Semagoro was born to Hsrokoro and Yemanzra, Nagaji immigrants in Absalom's Puddles District, he had already inherited all he would from his parents: crippling poverty. Themselves travelers that had fallen upon misfortune after another, Semagoro's parents yet cared for their child's well being, instilling in him a harshly realistic worldview from a young age in the hopes that he would not succumb to their own brash mistakes.

Time passed, and Semagoro had grown to be a young adult. With a new strong set of arms and a determined attitude, he and his parents were on the road to a stable, even decent life. However, his world soon went up in flames before his eyes; as he came back from his job late one evening a greasy half-elf ran past him, a maniacal glint in his eyes. By the time he saw the smoke and realized what had happened, the half-elf was gone. His squalid shack that he grew up in was ablaze, along with everyone else that cared for him.

With nowhere else left to turn and barely a silver weight to his name, Semagoro pulled a desperate favour from an acquaintance, and came to live in a secluded park of the Ivy District. In exchange for tending a terribly overgrown garden, he was given a miserable stipend and a cot. The city's ugliness weighed on Semagoro's mind constantly as he struggled with the unruly plants, thoughts turning to all of those people and places left forgotten.

One day, while digging away at a particularly stubborn root, the most melodious sound Semagoro had ever heard reached his ears. He stopped his work in bewilderment to see an outlandishly dressed gnome playing her lute, hair and clothes the colour of a spring rainbow, meandering the weed choked paths of his garden. Unable to work up the courage to speak with her, and convinced she wouldn't even give him the time of day, he returned to his duties with yet a light smile on his face.

Weeks passed, and every midday the gnome would come to practice another eccentrically beautiful song. It was obvious that she was aware of Semagoro's presence, and he was beginning to suspect she playing just for him. For the first time in his life, Semagoro was flattered. One month after their first encounter, he approached her with a collection of flowers he had grown, humming along in harmony to her tune.

Her name was Pai Evensong, and for a time they were happy together. She informally introduced him to Shelyn's faith, gradually eroding his faithless and dour demeanor, and he showed her all of the wonders of the garden he tended and lived in. They genuinely complemented one another, and over a year their bond grew stronger.

As Semagoro made his way to Pai's house one evening, he felt a wave of panic wash over him. The scent of burnt tinder wafted through the streets, and he ran. When he arrived, it was chaos; the entire neighborhood was ablaze, and Pai's house had already been consumed. As furious grief was about to overtake him, Semagoro saw a shadow dart down an alleyway. On instinct he followed, running as fast as he could, glimpsing a greasy head of hair charge into a dilapidated shack.

Semagoro charged through the door to the surprise of the arsonist, flasks and matches tumbling from his pockets, setting the shack ablaze. The blow had knocked the man out, and as Semagoro watched the flames quickly start to curl onto the walls, he thought: If I let this man burn, we won't be even. Another dead, and I won't have done anything. Pai deserves better... and he deserves better.

Meliakor Brookwind, serial arsonist, was thus brought to justice. Pai Evensong was confirmed dead, and without a body for resurrection, would remain so. Semagoro, while mourning at the remains of her house, made a miraculous discovery: her lute was intact, not even scorched by the flames. Taking this as a sign, he brought it back home to his garden and began construction on a shrine to Pai.

Most recently, Semagoro began training to become a Pathfinder on the urging of a mysterious thrush that he found perched atop Pai's shrine. Never being one for languages, Semagoro finds the thrush difficult to understand at times, but understands that its magical nature is surely divine providence. With a new-found love for life, Semagoro is living proof that it's better to have loved and lost, than to not have loved at all.