The Quelmar Wiki - User contributions [en]

Coryn Alaeth

2024-01-13T17:05:18Z

ViscountTudon:

{{Worldbuilders}} <spotify>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3U87rrS8xxHkLwPt6wOLUD?si=8adf948d7a754ef5</spotify>
{{Infobox_character|affilliation=Temple of Lathander, Galik|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=Coryn2.jpg|relatives=Unknown|languages=languages|marital=Married|birthDate=855 PR (Age 38)|birthPlace=Galik (Presumed)|species=Half-High Elf|gender=Male|height=5'9"|weight=159lbs|eyes=Hazel}}

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a half-elf Devotion Paladin/Light Domain Cleric, hoping to ease the struggles of the Tempest Brothers' expedition by invoking Lathander's light. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] community campaign.

== Physical Appearance ==
Coryn is a graceful figure, normally cloaked in red and yellow cloths inlaid in the regal heraldry of the Morning Lord. His pale hair flows slightly past his shoulders, framing ears adorned with jewelry displaying the symbols of the Dawnbringer. His eyes are a warm hazel, and he is shrouded in a subtle glow, as if haloed by the light spilling over the horizon just before morning comes.

== Personality ==
Soft-spoken, collected, and polite, Coryn exudes a comforting bedside manner, something he gained during his upbringing under the tutelage of the clerics in the Temple of Lathander. He strives to be a guiding figure for any who need one, and to that end he possesses a warm, welcoming aura of calm authority that can often help some people turn over a new leaf (though new experience suggests that it may not be enough for others).

== History ==
'''Synopsis'''

Coryn was born, sometime during 855PR, most likely in Galik. The reason for such vague terms is simple - he was left at an orphanage in Galik as an infant, and never knew his parents. Nurtured for five years in the dubious care of the orphanage, he soon was forced to leave and live on the streets as an urchin, constantly being the target of the other children for being a half-breed. It was during this time begging, stealing, and otherwise getting up to untoward business, that his life was able to turn over a new leaf - when Coryn attempted to steal (and then sell) small relics from the local temple dedicated to Lathander, he was caught by the resident clerics. Realizing that the scruffy child was in need of their aid, they took him under their own care and tutelage - where, until now, he has served dutifully in his role as a temple cleric, guardian, and healer.

'''Upbringing in the Temple of Lathander'''

Life at the temple was relatively spartan, with the occupants being afforded few luxuries so the temple could do the most good outside its doors as possible - however, to a street rat like Coryn, it was the most comfort he had experienced in his short life. As a child, he and six others were put under the care of Yseme and Gerwain Alaeth, an elderly cleric couple who were responsible for all the strays the temple took in - later in life, Coryn would adopt their last name in honour of the care they gave him, when nobody else would. There were several such couples who performed this role, one of whom was responsible for the curly-haired Elwin, Coryn's closest friend throughout childhood, and future husband.

For the first few years he and the other children were given plenty of the freedom children should be, to get into trouble, play, the works. Mornings and evenings were dedicated to learning, however, and it was then that he was taught the basic expectations of the temple, what they stood for, and what he would become. Coryn and a few others became quite the bookworms, being most often found in the small library of tomes and scriptures that the temple possessed.

As he and the others grew into adolescence, their responsibilities within the temple expanded considerably. Gone now were the days of reckless escapades, and as such Coryn and the other children were expected to now turn to their next chapter. They were taught to pray, to console, and to heal, and to that end were expected to care for the sick and injured taking refuge in the temple's confines. A select few, Coryn and two others, were chosen to train in combat as well, so that they could one day become Paladins of the Dawnbringer. And so it was that, between shifts acting as a healer, reading theory, and spending time with the other novitiates, so too was Coryn instructed in the basics of combat, and taught to be a stalwart defender both of his faith, and those souls he was duty-bound to protect. Occasionally, a Paladin who had sworn their oaths would rest in the temple, and Coryn would excitedly ask for their guidance, which almost always they would oblige.

At 17, Coryn took his oaths both as a Paladin and as a Cleric of Lathander, adopting his foster parents' name as he did so. From then on, he would serve in the temple dutifully as a servant of the Morning Lord, and took his responsibilities on with pride. Life continued as normal for several more years, during which time he undertook several larger responsibilities outside the temple (as mentioned later), and began a relationship with Elwin, which would culminate in their marriage in 880PR. Since then, Coryn has continued to work both in and out of the temple to fulfill his oaths to Lathander, while Elwin remains in the temple as an accomplished healer and seer.

'''Work in and out of the Temple'''

== Languages ==
Coryn is fluent in Common, Elvish, Sylvan and Celestial.

== Powers and Abilities ==
Blessed by the favour of Lathander, Coryn utilizes a an arsenal of tools mostly involving radiant damage, such gifts allowing him to empower his strikes, dissuade those of the enemy, and burst into a brilliant radiance like the sun first broaching the horizon in the early morning.

== Attacks and Weapons ==
Coryn wields a flanged morningstar, a large amber gem inlaid in the pommel to represent the holiest of Lathanderite relics, the Blood of Lathander. His shield, similarly, is emblazoned with the crest of the Morninglord's sunrise. With these armaments, and enveloped in the warm glow of the Dawnbringer's light, he becomes a shining beacon on the battlefield, drawing the ire of foes and serving as a rallying cry for his allies.

== Coryn's Journal==
'''First Days'''

The first days I have spent here have been unremarkable, save for the wide variety of characters attracted by the Tempest Brothers. There have been several figures of particular note, but everyone seems largely agreeable. I do have some concerns about the nature of the company at large - primarily due to the...less than personable Mr. Decrye, but it will stand to be seen whether the company's conduct is similarly distasteful. Several of the members of the company seem also to warrant a close eye, either by virtue of their violent pastimes or, in one case, an unusual aversion to the Morninglord. While it is of course true that all are worthy of changes in the Dawnbringer's gaze, such a strong aversion to a god of such positive reputation is worthy of some concern.

From what I gather, the expectation is to stay in Galik for a time, before returning to the wilds to continue our quest. It sounds as if there is concern that people *inside* Galik are responsible for cavorting with the distasteful creatures in the wilds that must be dealt with before returning, lest their conspiracies continue.

I look forward to my first tasking in a few days. It is my understanding that we seek an artificer, lest they fall into the hands of those that wish ill upon the Tempest Brothers' company. While I hope soon to test myself against evil in combat, I fear that while within the city we may face major limitations - ones our enemies may not honour.

As for a few notes on those I've met so far, my first thoughts are noted below:

Lambda: A warforged of some variety - seems kindly enough, though there is a...haunted sense around him. Seems to be disciplined, though, based on the evidence of hard training. Offered to escort another new hire at the end of the night, so his nature seems to be respectable.

Wiggler: Another curious warforged, who seems to spend most of their time as a cat. They noted concern for any distress caused by their telepathy, which while most courteous, does seem somewhat at odds with their otherwise chaotic nature. Another member, Esperanza, suggested that they may be a druid by their abilities, but alas I was too preoccupied by my readings to confirm this speculation.

<s>p'Ash'r</s> Pash: Grung, which is notable - I have yet to meet one of such small stature, but they are possessive of quite a character. I suspect that they partake (partook?) in a less-than-legitimate trade, but they appear friendly enough and show no signs of malice towards their compatriots. While their reliability is still to be seen, I have little doubt they are worthy of redemption, even if their past seems likely to be questionable. - Update: Pash is an excellent sparring partner, who despite a bout longer than I expected to manage, beat me readily. I should like to face her again once my skills have improved, but for now, I must consider what I've learned from our engagement.

Marion: Tiefling of considerable stature. Seemingly quite quiet, and suffering the clear signs of loss from their previous expedition (I gather). We exchanged quite a lovely conversation on our respective deities - while I cannot advocate the worship of the Maid of Misfortune, I cannot deny that my Lord Lathander is directly related to her through the Dawn Cataclysm, though the connection certainly confirms that my readings on the matter are most terribly out of practice. I look forward to such debates in the future.

Arina: Arina is an elf of rather small stature that joined around the time I did - they were the one who had an extreme aversion to Lathander (or more specifically his temple). They appeared to be quite cagey under my limited questioning, which leads me to suspect that they (and their family, if their involvement is as close as they suggested) are a career criminal. While this is, of course, not something that denies them the chance of turning over a new leaf (I of all people could not criticize such acts in such circumstances), their unwillingness to be honest about why they avoid the Morninglord's temple suggests they are not the most reliable. I will be keeping my eye on this one, for now, but I will always keep my arms open if they wish to change.

Lux: Lux is a Drow warrior I have seen coming and going from the company headquarters many times now, though we have yet to exchange words. It seems they are quite a volatile personality, having threatened Wiggler after they, admittedly, dug far too deep without permission. I suspect that they may not be of the lightest disposition, but I hopefully my suspicion will be assuaged when we do eventually exchange words.

Amaris: A cleric, though of which god I am not sure. She seems to be Fey in origin, being a Satyr, though has not (thankfully) displayed any signs or indications of the stereotypical Fey trickery I have heard are common. She seems to command great respect, and maybe a little fear, from others in the company - I hope that soon we will be able to speak at greater length so I might learn more of her faith.

Esperanza: I know very little of this captivating Genasi, who sports a colouration and patterning I have never before seen, or even heard of. They are an...as close as I can recall, "Astronomical Cartographer," which I assume means one who maps the stars. An admirable and scholarly vocation, to be sure, and one I would like to learn more of if I am fortunate enough to find the time.
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]
[[Category:Player Characters]]

Coryn Alaeth

2024-01-13T17:04:45Z

ViscountTudon:

{{Worldbuilders}}
{{Infobox_character|affilliation=Temple of Lathander, Galik|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=Coryn2.jpg|relatives=Unknown|languages=languages|marital=Married|birthDate=855 PR (Age 38)|birthPlace=Galik (Presumed)|species=Half-High Elf|gender=Male|height=5'9"|weight=159lbs|eyes=Hazel}}

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a half-elf Devotion Paladin/Light Domain Cleric, hoping to ease the struggles of the Tempest Brothers' expedition by invoking Lathander's light. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] community campaign.

== Physical Appearance ==
Coryn is a graceful figure, normally cloaked in red and yellow cloths inlaid in the regal heraldry of the Morning Lord. His pale hair flows slightly past his shoulders, framing ears adorned with jewelry displaying the symbols of the Dawnbringer. His eyes are a warm hazel, and he is shrouded in a subtle glow, as if haloed by the light spilling over the horizon just before morning comes.

== Personality ==
Soft-spoken, collected, and polite, Coryn exudes a comforting bedside manner, something he gained during his upbringing under the tutelage of the clerics in the Temple of Lathander. He strives to be a guiding figure for any who need one, and to that end he possesses a warm, welcoming aura of calm authority that can often help some people turn over a new leaf (though new experience suggests that it may not be enough for others).

== History ==
'''Synopsis'''

Coryn was born, sometime during 855PR, most likely in Galik. The reason for such vague terms is simple - he was left at an orphanage in Galik as an infant, and never knew his parents. Nurtured for five years in the dubious care of the orphanage, he soon was forced to leave and live on the streets as an urchin, constantly being the target of the other children for being a half-breed. It was during this time begging, stealing, and otherwise getting up to untoward business, that his life was able to turn over a new leaf - when Coryn attempted to steal (and then sell) small relics from the local temple dedicated to Lathander, he was caught by the resident clerics. Realizing that the scruffy child was in need of their aid, they took him under their own care and tutelage - where, until now, he has served dutifully in his role as a temple cleric, guardian, and healer.

'''Upbringing in the Temple of Lathander'''

Life at the temple was relatively spartan, with the occupants being afforded few luxuries so the temple could do the most good outside its doors as possible - however, to a street rat like Coryn, it was the most comfort he had experienced in his short life. As a child, he and six others were put under the care of Yseme and Gerwain Alaeth, an elderly cleric couple who were responsible for all the strays the temple took in - later in life, Coryn would adopt their last name in honour of the care they gave him, when nobody else would. There were several such couples who performed this role, one of whom was responsible for the curly-haired Elwin, Coryn's closest friend throughout childhood, and future husband.

For the first few years he and the other children were given plenty of the freedom children should be, to get into trouble, play, the works. Mornings and evenings were dedicated to learning, however, and it was then that he was taught the basic expectations of the temple, what they stood for, and what he would become. Coryn and a few others became quite the bookworms, being most often found in the small library of tomes and scriptures that the temple possessed.

As he and the others grew into adolescence, their responsibilities within the temple expanded considerably. Gone now were the days of reckless escapades, and as such Coryn and the other children were expected to now turn to their next chapter. They were taught to pray, to console, and to heal, and to that end were expected to care for the sick and injured taking refuge in the temple's confines. A select few, Coryn and two others, were chosen to train in combat as well, so that they could one day become Paladins of the Dawnbringer. And so it was that, between shifts acting as a healer, reading theory, and spending time with the other novitiates, so too was Coryn instructed in the basics of combat, and taught to be a stalwart defender both of his faith, and those souls he was duty-bound to protect. Occasionally, a Paladin who had sworn their oaths would rest in the temple, and Coryn would excitedly ask for their guidance, which almost always they would oblige.

At 17, Coryn took his oaths both as a Paladin and as a Cleric of Lathander, adopting his foster parents' name as he did so. From then on, he would serve in the temple dutifully as a servant of the Morning Lord, and took his responsibilities on with pride. Life continued as normal for several more years, during which time he undertook several larger responsibilities outside the temple (as mentioned later), and began a relationship with Elwin, which would culminate in their marriage in 880PR. Since then, Coryn has continued to work both in and out of the temple to fulfill his oaths to Lathander, while Elwin remains in the temple as an accomplished healer and seer.

'''Work in and out of the Temple'''

== Languages ==
Coryn is fluent in Common, Elvish, Sylvan and Celestial.

== Powers and Abilities ==
Blessed by the favour of Lathander, Coryn utilizes a an arsenal of tools mostly involving radiant damage, such gifts allowing him to empower his strikes, dissuade those of the enemy, and burst into a brilliant radiance like the sun first broaching the horizon in the early morning.

== Attacks and Weapons ==
Coryn wields a flanged morningstar, a large amber gem inlaid in the pommel to represent the holiest of Lathanderite relics, the Blood of Lathander. His shield, similarly, is emblazoned with the crest of the Morninglord's sunrise. With these armaments, and enveloped in the warm glow of the Dawnbringer's light, he becomes a shining beacon on the battlefield, drawing the ire of foes and serving as a rallying cry for his allies.

== Coryn's Journal==
'''First Days'''

The first days I have spent here have been unremarkable, save for the wide variety of characters attracted by the Tempest Brothers. There have been several figures of particular note, but everyone seems largely agreeable. I do have some concerns about the nature of the company at large - primarily due to the...less than personable Mr. Decrye, but it will stand to be seen whether the company's conduct is similarly distasteful. Several of the members of the company seem also to warrant a close eye, either by virtue of their violent pastimes or, in one case, an unusual aversion to the Morninglord. While it is of course true that all are worthy of changes in the Dawnbringer's gaze, such a strong aversion to a god of such positive reputation is worthy of some concern.

From what I gather, the expectation is to stay in Galik for a time, before returning to the wilds to continue our quest. It sounds as if there is concern that people *inside* Galik are responsible for cavorting with the distasteful creatures in the wilds that must be dealt with before returning, lest their conspiracies continue.

I look forward to my first tasking in a few days. It is my understanding that we seek an artificer, lest they fall into the hands of those that wish ill upon the Tempest Brothers' company. While I hope soon to test myself against evil in combat, I fear that while within the city we may face major limitations - ones our enemies may not honour.

As for a few notes on those I've met so far, my first thoughts are noted below:

Lambda: A warforged of some variety - seems kindly enough, though there is a...haunted sense around him. Seems to be disciplined, though, based on the evidence of hard training. Offered to escort another new hire at the end of the night, so his nature seems to be respectable.

Wiggler: Another curious warforged, who seems to spend most of their time as a cat. They noted concern for any distress caused by their telepathy, which while most courteous, does seem somewhat at odds with their otherwise chaotic nature. Another member, Esperanza, suggested that they may be a druid by their abilities, but alas I was too preoccupied by my readings to confirm this speculation.

<s>p'Ash'r</s> Pash: Grung, which is notable - I have yet to meet one of such small stature, but they are possessive of quite a character. I suspect that they partake (partook?) in a less-than-legitimate trade, but they appear friendly enough and show no signs of malice towards their compatriots. While their reliability is still to be seen, I have little doubt they are worthy of redemption, even if their past seems likely to be questionable. - Update: Pash is an excellent sparring partner, who despite a bout longer than I expected to manage, beat me readily. I should like to face her again once my skills have improved, but for now, I must consider what I've learned from our engagement.

Marion: Tiefling of considerable stature. Seemingly quite quiet, and suffering the clear signs of loss from their previous expedition (I gather). We exchanged quite a lovely conversation on our respective deities - while I cannot advocate the worship of the Maid of Misfortune, I cannot deny that my Lord Lathander is directly related to her through the Dawn Cataclysm, though the connection certainly confirms that my readings on the matter are most terribly out of practice. I look forward to such debates in the future.

Arina: Arina is an elf of rather small stature that joined around the time I did - they were the one who had an extreme aversion to Lathander (or more specifically his temple). They appeared to be quite cagey under my limited questioning, which leads me to suspect that they (and their family, if their involvement is as close as they suggested) are a career criminal. While this is, of course, not something that denies them the chance of turning over a new leaf (I of all people could not criticize such acts in such circumstances), their unwillingness to be honest about why they avoid the Morninglord's temple suggests they are not the most reliable. I will be keeping my eye on this one, for now, but I will always keep my arms open if they wish to change.

Lux: Lux is a Drow warrior I have seen coming and going from the company headquarters many times now, though we have yet to exchange words. It seems they are quite a volatile personality, having threatened Wiggler after they, admittedly, dug far too deep without permission. I suspect that they may not be of the lightest disposition, but I hopefully my suspicion will be assuaged when we do eventually exchange words.

Amaris: A cleric, though of which god I am not sure. She seems to be Fey in origin, being a Satyr, though has not (thankfully) displayed any signs or indications of the stereotypical Fey trickery I have heard are common. She seems to command great respect, and maybe a little fear, from others in the company - I hope that soon we will be able to speak at greater length so I might learn more of her faith.

Esperanza: I know very little of this captivating Genasi, who sports a colouration and patterning I have never before seen, or even heard of. They are an...as close as I can recall, "Astronomical Cartographer," which I assume means one who maps the stars. An admirable and scholarly vocation, to be sure, and one I would like to learn more of if I am fortunate enough to find the time.
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]
[[Category:Player Characters]]

Coryn Alaeth

2024-01-13T16:58:39Z

ViscountTudon: More backstory

{{Worldbuilders}} <spotify>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3U87rrS8xxHkLwPt6wOLUD?si=1181c6eb81a14a74</spotify>
{{Infobox_character|affilliation=Temple of Lathander, Galik|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=Coryn2.jpg|relatives=Unknown|languages=languages|marital=Married|birthDate=855 PR (Age 38)|birthPlace=Galik (Presumed)|species=Half-High Elf|gender=Male|height=5'9"|weight=159lbs|eyes=Hazel}}

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a half-elf Devotion Paladin/Light Domain Cleric, hoping to ease the struggles of the Tempest Brothers' expedition by invoking Lathander's light. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] community campaign.

== Physical Appearance ==
Coryn is a graceful figure, normally cloaked in red and yellow cloths inlaid in the regal heraldry of the Morning Lord. His pale hair flows slightly past his shoulders, framing ears adorned with jewelry displaying the symbols of the Dawnbringer. His eyes are a warm hazel, and he is shrouded in a subtle glow, as if haloed by the light spilling over the horizon just before morning comes.

== Personality ==
Soft-spoken, collected, and polite, Coryn exudes a comforting bedside manner, something he gained during his upbringing under the tutelage of the clerics in the Temple of Lathander. He strives to be a guiding figure for any who need one, and to that end he possesses a warm, welcoming aura of calm authority that can often help some people turn over a new leaf (though new experience suggests that it may not be enough for others).

== History ==
'''Synopsis'''

Coryn was born, sometime during 855PR, most likely in Galik. The reason for such vague terms is simple - he was left at an orphanage in Galik as an infant, and never knew his parents. Nurtured for five years in the dubious care of the orphanage, he soon was forced to leave and live on the streets as an urchin, constantly being the target of the other children for being a half-breed. It was during this time begging, stealing, and otherwise getting up to untoward business, that his life was able to turn over a new leaf - when Coryn attempted to steal (and then sell) small relics from the local temple dedicated to Lathander, he was caught by the resident clerics. Realizing that the scruffy child was in need of their aid, they took him under their own care and tutelage - where, until now, he has served dutifully in his role as a temple cleric, guardian, and healer.

'''Upbringing in the Temple of Lathander'''

Life at the temple was relatively spartan, with the occupants being afforded few luxuries so the temple could do the most good outside its doors as possible - however, to a street rat like Coryn, it was the most comfort he had experienced in his short life. As a child, he and six others were put under the care of Yseme and Gerwain Alaeth, an elderly cleric couple who were responsible for all the strays the temple took in - later in life, Coryn would adopt their last name in honour of the care they gave him, when nobody else would. There were several such couples who performed this role, one of whom was responsible for the curly-haired Elwin, Coryn's closest friend throughout childhood, and future husband.

For the first few years he and the other children were given plenty of the freedom children should be, to get into trouble, play, the works. Mornings and evenings were dedicated to learning, however, and it was then that he was taught the basic expectations of the temple, what they stood for, and what he would become. Coryn and a few others became quite the bookworms, being most often found in the small library of tomes and scriptures that the temple possessed.

As he and the others grew into adolescence, their responsibilities within the temple expanded considerably. Gone now were the days of reckless escapades, and as such Coryn and the other children were expected to now turn to their next chapter. They were taught to pray, to console, and to heal, and to that end were expected to care for the sick and injured taking refuge in the temple's confines. A select few, Coryn and two others, were chosen to train in combat as well, so that they could one day become Paladins of the Dawnbringer. And so it was that, between shifts acting as a healer, reading theory, and spending time with the other novitiates, so too was Coryn instructed in the basics of combat, and taught to be a stalwart defender both of his faith, and those souls he was duty-bound to protect. Occasionally, a Paladin who had sworn their oaths would rest in the temple, and Coryn would excitedly ask for their guidance, which almost always they would oblige.

At 17, Coryn took his oaths both as a Paladin and as a Cleric of Lathander, adopting his foster parents' name as he did so. From then on, he would serve in the temple dutifully as a servant of the Morning Lord, and took his responsibilities on with pride. Life continued as normal for several more years, during which time he undertook several larger responsibilities outside the temple (as mentioned later), and began a relationship with Elwin, which would culminate in their marriage in 880PR. Since then, Coryn has continued to work both in and out of the temple to fulfill his oaths to Lathander, while Elwin remains in the temple as an accomplished healer and seer.

'''Work in and out of the Temple'''

== Languages ==
Coryn is fluent in Common, Elvish, Sylvan and Celestial.

== Powers and Abilities ==
Blessed by the favour of Lathander, Coryn utilizes a an arsenal of tools mostly involving radiant damage, such gifts allowing him to empower his strikes, dissuade those of the enemy, and burst into a brilliant radiance like the sun first broaching the horizon in the early morning.

== Attacks and Weapons ==
Coryn wields a flanged morningstar, a large amber gem inlaid in the pommel to represent the holiest of Lathanderite relics, the Blood of Lathander. His shield, similarly, is emblazoned with the crest of the Morninglord's sunrise. With these armaments, and enveloped in the warm glow of the Dawnbringer's light, he becomes a shining beacon on the battlefield, drawing the ire of foes and serving as a rallying cry for his allies.

== Coryn's Journal==
'''First Days'''

The first days I have spent here have been unremarkable, save for the wide variety of characters attracted by the Tempest Brothers. There have been several figures of particular note, but everyone seems largely agreeable. I do have some concerns about the nature of the company at large - primarily due to the...less than personable Mr. Decrye, but it will stand to be seen whether the company's conduct is similarly distasteful. Several of the members of the company seem also to warrant a close eye, either by virtue of their violent pastimes or, in one case, an unusual aversion to the Morninglord. While it is of course true that all are worthy of changes in the Dawnbringer's gaze, such a strong aversion to a god of such positive reputation is worthy of some concern.

From what I gather, the expectation is to stay in Galik for a time, before returning to the wilds to continue our quest. It sounds as if there is concern that people *inside* Galik are responsible for cavorting with the distasteful creatures in the wilds that must be dealt with before returning, lest their conspiracies continue.

I look forward to my first tasking in a few days. It is my understanding that we seek an artificer, lest they fall into the hands of those that wish ill upon the Tempest Brothers' company. While I hope soon to test myself against evil in combat, I fear that while within the city we may face major limitations - ones our enemies may not honour.

As for a few notes on those I've met so far, my first thoughts are noted below:

Lambda: A warforged of some variety - seems kindly enough, though there is a...haunted sense around him. Seems to be disciplined, though, based on the evidence of hard training. Offered to escort another new hire at the end of the night, so his nature seems to be respectable.

Wiggler: Another curious warforged, who seems to spend most of their time as a cat. They noted concern for any distress caused by their telepathy, which while most courteous, does seem somewhat at odds with their otherwise chaotic nature. Another member, Esperanza, suggested that they may be a druid by their abilities, but alas I was too preoccupied by my readings to confirm this speculation.

<s>p'Ash'r</s> Pash: Grung, which is notable - I have yet to meet one of such small stature, but they are possessive of quite a character. I suspect that they partake (partook?) in a less-than-legitimate trade, but they appear friendly enough and show no signs of malice towards their compatriots. While their reliability is still to be seen, I have little doubt they are worthy of redemption, even if their past seems likely to be questionable. - Update: Pash is an excellent sparring partner, who despite a bout longer than I expected to manage, beat me readily. I should like to face her again once my skills have improved, but for now, I must consider what I've learned from our engagement.

Marion: Tiefling of considerable stature. Seemingly quite quiet, and suffering the clear signs of loss from their previous expedition (I gather). We exchanged quite a lovely conversation on our respective deities - while I cannot advocate the worship of the Maid of Misfortune, I cannot deny that my Lord Lathander is directly related to her through the Dawn Cataclysm, though the connection certainly confirms that my readings on the matter are most terribly out of practice. I look forward to such debates in the future.

Arina: Arina is an elf of rather small stature that joined around the time I did - they were the one who had an extreme aversion to Lathander (or more specifically his temple). They appeared to be quite cagey under my limited questioning, which leads me to suspect that they (and their family, if their involvement is as close as they suggested) are a career criminal. While this is, of course, not something that denies them the chance of turning over a new leaf (I of all people could not criticize such acts in such circumstances), their unwillingness to be honest about why they avoid the Morninglord's temple suggests they are not the most reliable. I will be keeping my eye on this one, for now, but I will always keep my arms open if they wish to change.

Lux: Lux is a Drow warrior I have seen coming and going from the company headquarters many times now, though we have yet to exchange words. It seems they are quite a volatile personality, having threatened Wiggler after they, admittedly, dug far too deep without permission. I suspect that they may not be of the lightest disposition, but I hopefully my suspicion will be assuaged when we do eventually exchange words.

Amaris: A cleric, though of which god I am not sure. She seems to be Fey in origin, being a Satyr, though has not (thankfully) displayed any signs or indications of the stereotypical Fey trickery I have heard are common. She seems to command great respect, and maybe a little fear, from others in the company - I hope that soon we will be able to speak at greater length so I might learn more of her faith.

Esperanza: I know very little of this captivating Genasi, who sports a colouration and patterning I have never before seen, or even heard of. They are an...as close as I can recall, "Astronomical Cartographer," which I assume means one who maps the stars. An admirable and scholarly vocation, to be sure, and one I would like to learn more of if I am fortunate enough to find the time.
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]
[[Category:Player Characters]]

Coryn Alaeth

2024-01-13T15:32:03Z

ViscountTudon:

{{Worldbuilders}} <spotify>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3U87rrS8xxHkLwPt6wOLUD?si=1181c6eb81a14a74</spotify>
{{Infobox_character|affilliation=Temple of Lathander, Galik|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=Coryn2.jpg|relatives=Unknown|languages=languages|marital=Married|birthDate=855 PR (Age 38)|birthPlace=Galik (Presumed)|species=Half-High Elf|gender=Male|height=5'9"|weight=159lbs|eyes=Hazel}}

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a half-elf Devotion Paladin/Light Domain Cleric, hoping to ease the struggles of the Tempest Brothers' expedition by invoking Lathander's light. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] community campaign.

== Physical Appearance ==
Coryn is a graceful figure, normally cloaked in red and yellow cloths inlaid in the regal heraldry of the Morning Lord. His pale hair flows slightly past his shoulders, framing ears adorned with jewelry displaying the symbols of the Dawnbringer. His eyes are a warm hazel, and he is shrouded in a subtle glow, as if haloed by the light spilling over the horizon just before morning comes.

== Personality ==
Soft-spoken, collected, and polite, Coryn exudes a comforting bedside manner, something he gained during his upbringing under the tutelage of the clerics in the Temple of Lathander. He strives to be a guiding figure for any who need one, and to that end he possesses a warm, welcoming aura of calm authority that can often help some people turn over a new leaf (though new experience suggests that it may not be enough for others).

== History ==
'''Synopsis'''

Coryn was born, sometime during 855PR, most likely in Galik. The reason for such vague terms is simple - he was left at an orphanage in Galik as an infant, and never knew his parents. Nurtured for five years in the dubious care of the orphanage, he soon was forced to leave and live on the streets as an urchin, constantly being the target of the other children for being a half-breed. It was during this time begging, stealing, and otherwise getting up to untoward business, that his life was able to turn over a new leaf - when Coryn attempted to steal (and then sell) small relics from the local temple dedicated to Lathander, he was caught by the resident clerics. Realizing that the scruffy child was in need of their aid, they took him under their own care and tutelage - where, until now, he has served dutifully in his role as a temple cleric, guardian, and healer.

'''Upbringing in the Temple of Lathander'''

'''Purifying of the Ospir House'''

'''Relief of the Galik Slums'''

== Languages ==
Coryn is fluent in Common, Elvish, Sylvan and Celestial.

== Powers and Abilities ==
Blessed by the favour of Lathander, Coryn utilizes a an arsenal of tools mostly involving radiant damage, such gifts allowing him to empower his strikes, dissuade those of the enemy, and burst into a brilliant radiance like the sun first broaching the horizon in the early morning.

== Attacks and Weapons ==
Coryn wields a flanged morningstar, a large amber gem inlaid in the pommel to represent the holiest of Lathanderite relics, the Blood of Lathander. His shield, similarly, is emblazoned with the crest of the Morninglord's sunrise. With these armaments, and enveloped in the warm glow of the Dawnbringer's light, he becomes a shining beacon on the battlefield, drawing the ire of foes and serving as a rallying cry for his allies.

== Coryn's Journal==
'''First Days'''

The first days I have spent here have been unremarkable, save for the wide variety of characters attracted by the Tempest Brothers. There have been several figures of particular note, but everyone seems largely agreeable. I do have some concerns about the nature of the company at large - primarily due to the...less than personable Mr. Decrye, but it will stand to be seen whether the company's conduct is similarly distasteful. Several of the members of the company seem also to warrant a close eye, either by virtue of their violent pastimes or, in one case, an unusual aversion to the Morninglord. While it is of course true that all are worthy of changes in the Dawnbringer's gaze, such a strong aversion to a god of such positive reputation is worthy of some concern.

From what I gather, the expectation is to stay in Galik for a time, before returning to the wilds to continue our quest. It sounds as if there is concern that people *inside* Galik are responsible for cavorting with the distasteful creatures in the wilds that must be dealt with before returning, lest their conspiracies continue.

I look forward to my first tasking in a few days. It is my understanding that we seek an artificer, lest they fall into the hands of those that wish ill upon the Tempest Brothers' company. While I hope soon to test myself against evil in combat, I fear that while within the city we may face major limitations - ones our enemies may not honour.

As for a few notes on those I've met so far, my first thoughts are noted below:

Lambda: A warforged of some variety - seems kindly enough, though there is a...haunted sense around him. Seems to be disciplined, though, based on the evidence of hard training. Offered to escort another new hire at the end of the night, so his nature seems to be respectable.

Wiggler: Another curious warforged, who seems to spend most of their time as a cat. They noted concern for any distress caused by their telepathy, which while most courteous, does seem somewhat at odds with their otherwise chaotic nature. Another member, Esperanza, suggested that they may be a druid by their abilities, but alas I was too preoccupied by my readings to confirm this speculation.

<s>p'Ash'r</s> Pash: Grung, which is notable - I have yet to meet one of such small stature, but they are possessive of quite a character. I suspect that they partake (partook?) in a less-than-legitimate trade, but they appear friendly enough and show no signs of malice towards their compatriots. While their reliability is still to be seen, I have little doubt they are worthy of redemption, even if their past seems likely to be questionable. - Update: Pash is an excellent sparring partner, who despite a bout longer than I expected to manage, beat me readily. I should like to face her again once my skills have improved, but for now, I must consider what I've learned from our engagement.

Marion: Tiefling of considerable stature. Seemingly quite quiet, and suffering the clear signs of loss from their previous expedition (I gather). We exchanged quite a lovely conversation on our respective deities - while I cannot advocate the worship of the Maid of Misfortune, I cannot deny that my Lord Lathander is directly related to her through the Dawn Cataclysm, though the connection certainly confirms that my readings on the matter are most terribly out of practice. I look forward to such debates in the future.

Arina: Arina is an elf of rather small stature that joined around the time I did - they were the one who had an extreme aversion to Lathander (or more specifically his temple). They appeared to be quite cagey under my limited questioning, which leads me to suspect that they (and their family, if their involvement is as close as they suggested) are a career criminal. While this is, of course, not something that denies them the chance of turning over a new leaf (I of all people could not criticize such acts in such circumstances), their unwillingness to be honest about why they avoid the Morninglord's temple suggests they are not the most reliable. I will be keeping my eye on this one, for now, but I will always keep my arms open if they wish to change.

Lux: Lux is a Drow warrior I have seen coming and going from the company headquarters many times now, though we have yet to exchange words. It seems they are quite a volatile personality, having threatened Wiggler after they, admittedly, dug far too deep without permission. I suspect that they may not be of the lightest disposition, but I hopefully my suspicion will be assuaged when we do eventually exchange words.

Amaris: A cleric, though of which god I am not sure. She seems to be Fey in origin, being a Satyr, though has not (thankfully) displayed any signs or indications of the stereotypical Fey trickery I have heard are common. She seems to command great respect, and maybe a little fear, from others in the company - I hope that soon we will be able to speak at greater length so I might learn more of her faith.

Esperanza: I know very little of this captivating Genasi, who sports a colouration and patterning I have never before seen, or even heard of. They are an...as close as I can recall, "Astronomical Cartographer," which I assume means one who maps the stars. An admirable and scholarly vocation, to be sure, and one I would like to learn more of if I am fortunate enough to find the time.
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]
[[Category:Player Characters]]

File:-ai-Coryn2.jpg

2024-01-13T15:29:18Z

ViscountTudon:

Generated art of Coryn Alaeth

Coryn Alaeth

2024-01-13T06:37:01Z

ViscountTudon:

{{Worldbuilders}} <spotify>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3U87rrS8xxHkLwPt6wOLUD?si=1181c6eb81a14a74</spotify>
{{Infobox_character|affilliation=Temple of Lathander, Galik|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=Coryn.jpg|relatives=Unknown|languages=languages|marital=Married|birthDate=855 PR (Age 38)|birthPlace=Galik (Presumed)|species=Half-High Elf|gender=Male|height=5'9"|weight=159lbs|eyes=Hazel}}

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a half-elf Devotion Paladin/Light Domain Cleric, hoping to ease the struggles of the Tempest Brothers' expedition by invoking Lathander's light. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] community campaign.

== Physical Appearance ==
Coryn is a graceful figure, normally cloaked in red and yellow cloths inlaid in the regal heraldry of the Morning Lord. His pale hair flows slightly past his shoulders, framing ears adorned with jewelry displaying the symbols of the Dawnbringer. His eyes are a warm hazel, and he is shrouded in a subtle glow, as if haloed by the light spilling over the horizon just before morning comes.

== Personality ==
Soft-spoken, collected, and polite, Coryn exudes a comforting bedside manner, something he gained during his upbringing under the tutelage of the clerics in the Temple of Lathander. He strives to be a guiding figure for any who need one, and to that end he possesses a warm, welcoming aura of calm authority that can often help some people turn over a new leaf (though new experience suggests that it may not be enough for others).

== History ==
'''Synopsis'''

Coryn was born, sometime during 855PR, most likely in Galik. The reason for such vague terms is simple - he was left at an orphanage in Galik as an infant, and never knew his parents. Nurtured for five years in the dubious care of the orphanage, he soon was forced to leave and live on the streets as an urchin, constantly being the target of the other children for being a half-breed. It was during this time begging, stealing, and otherwise getting up to untoward business, that his life was able to turn over a new leaf - when Coryn attempted to steal (and then sell) small relics from the local temple dedicated to Lathander, he was caught by the resident clerics. Realizing that the scruffy child was in need of their aid, they took him under their own care and tutelage - where, until now, he has served dutifully in his role as a temple cleric, guardian, and healer.

'''Upbringing in the Temple of Lathander'''

'''Purifying of the Ospir House'''

'''Relief of the Galik Slums'''

== Languages ==
Coryn is fluent in Common, Elvish, Sylvan and Celestial.

== Powers and Abilities ==
Blessed by the favour of Lathander, Coryn utilizes a an arsenal of tools mostly involving radiant damage, such gifts allowing him to empower his strikes, dissuade those of the enemy, and burst into a brilliant radiance like the sun first broaching the horizon in the early morning.

== Attacks and Weapons ==
Coryn wields a flanged morningstar, a large amber gem inlaid in the pommel to represent the holiest of Lathanderite relics, the Blood of Lathander. His shield, similarly, is emblazoned with the crest of the Morninglord's sunrise. With these armaments, and enveloped in the warm glow of the Dawnbringer's light, he becomes a shining beacon on the battlefield, drawing the ire of foes and serving as a rallying cry for his allies.

== Coryn's Journal==
'''First Days'''

The first days I have spent here have been unremarkable, save for the wide variety of characters attracted by the Tempest Brothers. There have been several figures of particular note, but everyone seems largely agreeable. I do have some concerns about the nature of the company at large - primarily due to the...less than personable Mr. Decrye, but it will stand to be seen whether the company's conduct is similarly distasteful. Several of the members of the company seem also to warrant a close eye, either by virtue of their violent pastimes or, in one case, an unusual aversion to the Morninglord. While it is of course true that all are worthy of changes in the Dawnbringer's gaze, such a strong aversion to a god of such positive reputation is worthy of some concern.

From what I gather, the expectation is to stay in Galik for a time, before returning to the wilds to continue our quest. It sounds as if there is concern that people *inside* Galik are responsible for cavorting with the distasteful creatures in the wilds that must be dealt with before returning, lest their conspiracies continue.

I look forward to my first tasking in a few days. It is my understanding that we seek an artificer, lest they fall into the hands of those that wish ill upon the Tempest Brothers' company. While I hope soon to test myself against evil in combat, I fear that while within the city we may face major limitations - ones our enemies may not honour.

As for a few notes on those I've met so far, my first thoughts are noted below:

Lambda: A warforged of some variety - seems kindly enough, though there is a...haunted sense around him. Seems to be disciplined, though, based on the evidence of hard training. Offered to escort another new hire at the end of the night, so his nature seems to be respectable.

Wiggler: Another curious warforged, who seems to spend most of their time as a cat. They noted concern for any distress caused by their telepathy, which while most courteous, does seem somewhat at odds with their otherwise chaotic nature. Another member, Esperanza, suggested that they may be a druid by their abilities, but alas I was too preoccupied by my readings to confirm this speculation.

<s>p'Ash'r</s> Pash: Grung, which is notable - I have yet to meet one of such small stature, but they are possessive of quite a character. I suspect that they partake (partook?) in a less-than-legitimate trade, but they appear friendly enough and show no signs of malice towards their compatriots. While their reliability is still to be seen, I have little doubt they are worthy of redemption, even if their past seems likely to be questionable. - Update: Pash is an excellent sparring partner, who despite a bout longer than I expected to manage, beat me readily. I should like to face her again once my skills have improved, but for now, I must consider what I've learned from our engagement.

Marion: Tiefling of considerable stature. Seemingly quite quiet, and suffering the clear signs of loss from their previous expedition (I gather). We exchanged quite a lovely conversation on our respective deities - while I cannot advocate the worship of the Maid of Misfortune, I cannot deny that my Lord Lathander is directly related to her through the Dawn Cataclysm, though the connection certainly confirms that my readings on the matter are most terribly out of practice. I look forward to such debates in the future.

Arina: Arina is an elf of rather small stature that joined around the time I did - they were the one who had an extreme aversion to Lathander (or more specifically his temple). They appeared to be quite cagey under my limited questioning, which leads me to suspect that they (and their family, if their involvement is as close as they suggested) are a career criminal. While this is, of course, not something that denies them the chance of turning over a new leaf (I of all people could not criticize such acts in such circumstances), their unwillingness to be honest about why they avoid the Morninglord's temple suggests they are not the most reliable. I will be keeping my eye on this one, for now, but I will always keep my arms open if they wish to change.

Lux: Lux is a Drow warrior I have seen coming and going from the company headquarters many times now, though we have yet to exchange words. It seems they are quite a volatile personality, having threatened Wiggler after they, admittedly, dug far too deep without permission. I suspect that they may not be of the lightest disposition, but I hopefully my suspicion will be assuaged when we do eventually exchange words.

Amaris: A cleric, though of which god I am not sure. She seems to be Fey in origin, being a Satyr, though has not (thankfully) displayed any signs or indications of the stereotypical Fey trickery I have heard are common. She seems to command great respect, and maybe a little fear, from others in the company - I hope that soon we will be able to speak at greater length so I might learn more of her faith.

Esperanza: I know very little of this captivating Genasi, who sports a colouration and patterning I have never before seen, or even heard of. They are an...as close as I can recall, "Astronomical Cartographer," which I assume means one who maps the stars. An admirable and scholarly vocation, to be sure, and one I would like to learn more of if I am fortunate enough to find the time.
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]
[[Category:Player Characters]]

Coryn Alaeth

2023-12-17T04:55:15Z

ViscountTudon: Journal Notation

<spotify>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3U87rrS8xxHkLwPt6wOLUD?si=1181c6eb81a14a74</spotify>
{{Infobox_character|affilliation=Temple of Lathander, Galik|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=Coryn.jpg|relatives=Unknown|languages=languages|marital=Married|birthDate=855 PR (Age 38)|birthPlace=Galik (Presumed)|species=Half-High Elf|gender=Male|height=5'10"|weight=171lbs|eyes=Hazel}}

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a half-elf Devotion Paladin/Light Domain Cleric, hoping to ease the struggles of the Tempest Brothers' expedition by invoking Lathander's light. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] community campaign.

== Physical Appearance ==
Coryn is a graceful figure, normally cloaked in red and yellow cloths inlaid in the regal heraldry of the Morning Lord. His pale hair flows slightly past his shoulders, framing ears adorned with jewelry displaying the sunrise of the Dawnbringer. His eyes are a warm hazel, and he is shrouded in a subtle glow, as if shrouded by the light spilling over the horizon just before morning comes.

== Personality ==
Soft-spoken, collected, and polite, Coryn exudes a comforting bedside manner, something he gained during his upbringing under the tutelage of the clerics in the Temple of Lathander. While he may be a healer and priest, his truest mandate is to be a protector - something he takes very seriously, which can sometimes break through the warm bedside manner as a colder, more callous demeanor, somewhat more suited to the difficult decisions that must be made in combat.

== History ==
'''Synopsis'''

Coryn was born, sometime during 855PR, most likely in Galik. The reason for such vague terms is simple - he was left at an orphanage in Galik as an infant, and never knew his parents. Nurtured for five years in the dubious care of the orphanage, he soon was forced to leave and live on the streets as an urchin, constantly being the target of the other children for being a half-breed. It was during this time begging, stealing, and otherwise getting up to untoward business, that his life was able to turn over a new leaf - when Coryn attempted to steal (and then sell) small relics from the local temple dedicated to Lathander, he was caught by the resident clerics. Realizing that the scruffy child was in need of their aid, they took him under their own care and tutelage - where, until now, he has served dutifully in his role as a temple cleric, guardian, and healer.

'''Upbringing in the Temple of Lathander'''

'''Purifying of the Ospir House'''

'''Relief of the Galik Slums'''

== Languages ==
Coryn is fluent in Common, Elvish, Sylvan and Celestial.

== Powers and Abilities ==
Blessed by the favour of Lathander, Coryn utilizes a an arsenal of tools mostly involving radiant damage, such gifts allowing him to empower his strikes, dissuade those of the enemy, and burst into a brilliant radiance like the sun first broaching the horizon in the early morning.

== Attacks and Weapons ==
Coryn wields a flanged morningstar, a large amber gem inlaid in the pommel to represent the holiest of Lathanderite relics, the Blood of Lathander. His shield, similarly, is emblazoned with the crest of the Morninglord's sunrise. With these armaments, and enveloped in the warm glow of the Dawnbringer's light, he becomes a shining beacon on the battlefield, drawing the ire of foes and serving as a rallying cry for his allies.

== Coryn's Journal==
'''First Days'''

The first days I have spent here have been unremarkable, save for the wide variety of characters attracted by the Tempest Brothers. There have been several figures of particular note, but everyone seems largely agreeable. I do have some concerns about the nature of the company at large - primarily due to the...less than personable Mr. Decrye, but it will stand to be seen whether the company's conduct is similarly distasteful. Several of the members of the company seem also to warrant a close eye, either by virtue of their violent pastimes or, in one case, an unusual aversion to the Morninglord. While it is of course true that all are worthy of changes in the Dawnbringer's gaze, such a strong aversion to a god of such positive reputation is worthy of some concern.

From what I gather, the expectation is to stay in Galik for a time, before returning to the wilds to continue our quest. It sounds as if there is concern that people *inside* Galik are responsible for cavorting with the distasteful creatures in the wilds that must be dealt with before returning, lest their conspiracies continue.

I look forward to my first tasking in a few days. It is my understanding that we seek an artificer, lest they fall into the hands of those that wish ill upon the Tempest Brothers' company. While I hope soon to test myself against evil in combat, I fear that while within the city we may face major limitations - ones our enemies may not honour.

As for a few notes on those I've met so far, my first thoughts are noted below:

Lambda: A warforged of some variety - seems kindly enough, though there is a...haunted sense around him. Seems to be disciplined, though, based on the evidence of hard training. Offered to escort another new hire at the end of the night, so his nature seems to be respectable.

Wiggler: Another curious warforged, who seems to spend most of their time as a cat. They noted concern for any distress caused by their telepathy, which while most courteous, does seem somewhat at odds with their otherwise chaotic nature. Another member, Esperanza, suggested that they may be a druid by their abilities, but alas I was too preoccupied by my readings to confirm this speculation.

<s>p'Ash'r</s> Pash: Grung, which is notable - I have yet to meet one of such small stature, but they are possessive of quite a character. I suspect that they partake (partook?) in a less-than-legitimate trade, but they appear friendly enough and show no signs of malice towards their compatriots. While their reliability is still to be seen, I have little doubt they are worthy of redemption, even if their past seems likely to be questionable. - Update: Pash is an excellent sparring partner, who despite a bout longer than I expected to manage, beat me readily. I should like to face her again once my skills have improved, but for now, I must consider what I've learned from our engagement.

Marion: Tiefling of considerable stature. Seemingly quite quiet, and suffering the clear signs of loss from their previous expedition (I gather). We exchanged quite a lovely conversation on our respective deities - while I cannot advocate the worship of the Maid of Misfortune, I cannot deny that my Lord Lathander is directly related to her through the Dawn Cataclysm, though the connection certainly confirms that my readings on the matter are most terribly out of practice. I look forward to such debates in the future.

Arina: Arina is an elf of rather small stature that joined around the time I did - they were the one who had an extreme aversion to Lathander (or more specifically his temple). They appeared to be quite cagey under my limited questioning, which leads me to suspect that they (and their family, if their involvement is as close as they suggested) are a career criminal. While this is, of course, not something that denies them the chance of turning over a new leaf (I of all people could not criticize such acts in such circumstances), their unwillingness to be honest about why they avoid the Morninglord's temple suggests they are not the most reliable. I will be keeping my eye on this one, for now, but I will always keep my arms open if they wish to change.

Lux: Lux is a Drow warrior I have seen coming and going from the company headquarters many times now, though we have yet to exchange words. It seems they are quite a volatile personality, having threatened Wiggler after they, admittedly, dug far too deep without permission. I suspect that they may not be of the lightest disposition, but I hopefully my suspicion will be assuaged when we do eventually exchange words.

Amaris: A cleric, though of which god I am not sure. She seems to be Fey in origin, being a Satyr, though has not (thankfully) displayed any signs or indications of the stereotypical Fey trickery I have heard are common. She seems to command great respect, and maybe a little fear, from others in the company - I hope that soon we will be able to speak at greater length so I might learn more of her faith.

Esperanza: I know very little of this captivating Genasi, who sports a colouration and patterning I have never before seen, or even heard of. They are an...as close as I can recall, "Astronomical Cartographer," which I assume means one who maps the stars. An admirable and scholarly vocation, to be sure, and one I would like to learn more of if I am fortunate enough to find the time.
[[Category:Player Characters]]

Coryn Alaeth

2023-12-11T16:44:47Z

ViscountTudon: Cont. story

File:Coryn.jpg

2023-12-11T01:00:39Z

ViscountTudon:

Coryn Alaeth, Bringer of the Dawn

Nassir Tycho

2023-05-09T20:18:33Z

ViscountTudon: Minor edits to personality

<spotify>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5B6tsmLqdvoLGNjeU102jl?si=6bf581d52cfa48d0</spotify>
{{Infobox_character|affilliation=None|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=NassirTycho.jpg|caption="A valiant death or glorious victory, I will earn my clan honour either way."|relatives=Clan Tycho|languages=Common, Draconic|alias=|marital=Single|deathDate=|deathPlace=|species=Dragonborn (Brass)|gender=Male|height=7'3"|weight=364lbs|eyes=Yellow}}

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a Brass Dragonborn zealot barbarian, searching the world for glory for himself and his clan. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] Community Campaign.

==Physical Appearance==
Nassir is a hulking presence, wrought from years of physical labour, training, and combat. Towering over most others, elongated scales and spines dot his body, alongside a pair of immense horns. Clan ritual scars circle his arms and torso, etched into the brown and grey mottled scales to commemorate both victories and defeats.

==Personality==
The personality of Nassir is a dour and practical one. He is often gratingly blunt to those he does not know, and has no interest in dulling down his opinions for the sake of others, though rarely intends to offend. Much of his personality is dedicated to his almost religious dedication to the traditions of his people, the tenets of which dictate almost every major choice he might make. He has a strong aversion to any kind of falsity, considering deceit to be the hallmark of the coward, who has no place in the clan. However, these principles do not stand in the way of a chivalric respect and fraternal friendship which also act as hallmarks for his conduct.

==History==
'''Early Childhood'''

Nassir was born in the winter of 866 to a family of 5, alongside a sister and a brother. His parents were lesser members of their clan of warriors, both by deed and by blood. His childhood was not an unusual one, and he and his siblings grew to the age of 5 as most young ones do - however, past this point, they would be subject to the harsh, draconian traditions of Clan Tycho.

Upon reaching the age of 5, every child of the Ordu begins the series of trials that determine their place in the clan. During the first night of their fifth year, Nassir and his siblings were taken from their beds, and brought into the wilds. They would be left there, defenseless, to fend for themselves for three days to ensure they had the strength to live amongst their elders.

'''First Trial'''

Nassir and his siblings were left approximately 10 miles from the settlement of Clan Tycho. Cold and alone, they fought to survive even the first night, abandoned in the dead of winter, and only managed to do so by finding an uprooted tree to huddle in the relative shelter of its roots. During the second day, Nassir suggested that the three of them split up to collect material to build shelter for the coming night, and find something to eat. This would be the last time he would see his sister. She vanished without trace searching on her own, and left Nassir and his brother Arven to huddle together alone. The final day of their first trial saw the true challenge of their ordeal - it happened that the uprooted tree they had been sheltering in was the home of a large boar. Upon its return, it attacked the two five year old boys, who were only just barely able to fight it off with the branches they had used to construct their primitive lodging. Nassir was gravely wounded during the encounter, though would be granted a mark of great honour - his first ritual victory scar, snaking around his wrist upon his return to the village the following day. The loss of Nassir's sister left a scar of its own, one of many marking losses Nassir would face.

'''Second Trial'''

Two years since the first ritual trial Nassir and his brother faced, it became time for their second. Now seven years old, they had both begun training in the basics of martial combat. Armed with primitive spears, they were cast out once again on their own on a hunt. They were to return with a beast, or to not return at all. The trial was an individual one, so Nassir and Arven went their separate ways in search of a prize to bring home. After several hours of searching and tracking, Nassir came upon and ambushed a young buck, catching it on his spear and killing it nearly instantly. Content with his trophy, he slung the deer over his shoulders and began his trek back to the village. About an hour passed marching through the trees with naught but the whispers of the wind passing through the trees - but...there! He heard the sound of someone calling out, weakly, for help. Following the noise, Nassir came upon Arven, lying wounded in the mud, alongside the corpse of a scorched beast Nassir could not recognize. Rushing to his brother's side, and realizing the severity of his wounds, he was faced with a difficult decision - rescue his brother, thus bringing Arven a great shame, or leave him to die. The answer, for Nassir, was simple.

Nassir dropped the carcass of the deer he had been carrying, and tied a thin rope around its legs and to his waist. With a grunt, he hefted Arven onto his shoulders and began the two hour journey home, covered in a vile mixture of mud and the blood of his own brother, through the fields of groaning trees.

Several hours later, the village had begun to write the two brothers off as dead. As the fires were lit approaching dusk, those on patrol were greeted with the sight of a stumbling, exhausted Nassir struggling to continue to walk. He made it to within 50 paces of the village edge before he collapsed, bringing both the sentries and his parents rushing to the two young dragonborn. It would not be until the following day that the story of what had happened would be told.

'''Shame'''

Nassir's actions in saving his brother had brought his sibling great shame. Through the following years, Arven began to resent him more and more - where tasks had once been cooperative, they became competitive. Everything Nassir did, his brother felt the need to exceed it to justify himself. As the years went on, and they grew older together, Arven's grudge grew; he would go so far as to damage Nassir's equipment to sabotage his trials and hunts, spike his drinks with toxic berries, anything that might have given him an edge. His actions did not go unnoticed - Nassir knew what his brother had been doing - but chose to let him continue. He could not risk losing another sibling.

When the two had grown to the age of fourteen, the worst thing that could have happened to their relationship, did. Both their father and mother were killed in battle, leaving the two young boys to fend for themselves. Alone, and with no supervision, they grew apart. They may have still been marked as brothers, but they rarely spoke and never trained together. The shame of Arven's rescue from his second trial was too much to bear.

'''Blooding'''

By the time Nassir had grown to sixteen, the age of adulthood in his Clan, he had far outgrown his brother. While this added another level to Arven's resentment, it was not nearly as incensing as Nassir's success. He had become something of a young leader in the village, and had progressed abnormally rapidly through his training. When the time came to perform the final trial, the ritual of Blooding, he was fully prepared. His brother, however, was not. Arven's grudges had driven him to shirk his responsibilities in favour of spite-fueled acts of sabotage and vandalism. When they, and three other aspirants, were sent out with their spears to hunt a beast worthy of their blooding, it was he who would trail behind the others. After two days of stalking the swamps, they found their prey.

As the hunting party crept through the undergrowth, they spotted a giant crocodile, abnormally large even by the standards of the species. Close to thirty feet long, by Nassir's estimate, the beast was a bulky mass of thick scale and rippling muscle. As the young dragonborn approached the beast from all sides, they leveled their spears in preparation. Jiite, daughter of Hereern the smith, struck first, followed by the four others. Nassir assaulted the creature from the rear-left quadrant, thrusting his spear into its hip in the hopes to immobilize the immense creature. Arven rushed forward as well, striking the beast from the same size. Jiite, the first to attack, was caught by the crocodile's immense tail as it whipped around. The sound was awful, and the audible crunch of her ribs only preceded the spine-shattering crack as her body was hurled into a nearby tree. She collapsed into the mud, dead before she hit the ground. The four others continued their assault, leaping onto the beast to attempt to stay away from its jaws and tail. Nassir hooked his claws into the hide of the monster, stabbing repeatedly at its head and eyes in an attempt to blind it. Duular, another of the aspirants, was not so fortunate - as the crocodile writhed, its jaws hooked onto him, and clamped shut. His screams were cut short by the beast rolling over onto his head. They were now just three. They continued their assault, re-invigorated, thrusting at gaps in the monster's scales that had been made by their earlier attacks. The last of the other aspirants, Aviil, son of Bardan, was thrown from the beast's back and crushed underneath it as it continued to thrash, leaving only Nassir and Arven to continue their battle. Still striking at the crocodile's head, Nassir let out a roar, both of rage and of grief, and drove his spear into the back of the creature's head. It finally punctured, properly. He leaned on the haft, driving it deeper into the base of the beast's skull, and kept pushing until the creature finally let out a rush of air, and lay dead.

And that's when he felt it.

A piercing, throbbing pain in his back.

He began to turn, but couldn't fully. There was something there, preventing it.

Arven stepped back.

He no longer held his spear.

'''Betrayal'''

Nassir paused for a moment, stunned. Surely, he thought, his brother must have missed the mark, trying to fell the beast. It would make sense, he had shirked his training frequently. But it was no mistake. Nassir watched horrified, breathing heavily, as his brother drew his knife. Unable to react, Nassir tried to stand as his brother pounced on him, years of anger and resentment finally spilling out into murder. Arven's knife drove into Nassir's shoulder, right below the collarbone. After the intensity of the battle, all Nassir could do to shove Arven off so he could stand.

Arven leapt at him again.

Nassir swung his hand with all his might, a desperate swing to defend himself.

''crrrchk''

The two spiraled off the back of the crocodile into the mud, the spear still stuck in Nassir's back shattering on impact with the ground. Nassir groans. His brother does not.

'''Aftermath'''

Nassir's desperate defense had cost him the rest of his family. He looked in horror as Arven lay in the mud just a few feet from him, his head angled unnaturally to the side, neck shattered from the ferocious impact. He felt sick. He hadn't meant to do that, he just wanted Arven to back up...had he? The simple doubt that his actions had been purely defensive wracked him with guilt. Of course their relationship had been strained...but he would never do that, would he? He struggled to his feet, dragging Arven's knife from his shoulder. He looked at it for a moment, observing the wear and tear on the subtle carvings that their parents had made when crafting the piece. Gingerly, he drew his own knife, and let it fall from his hands into the mud. He stumbled towards the crocodile, Arven's knife in hand, and fell to his knees in front of the beast. Using the knife, he severed an enormous foot from the creature as proof of his success. Once he had finished, he again struggled to his feet.

He turned to look at his brother, lying in the mud.

''"Ni su'cuy, gar kyr'adyc. Ni partayli, gar darasuum."'' He whispered the rite, voice hoarse and nearly gone from weeping. He wasn't convinced his brother deserved it. He wasn't convinced he deserved to say it.

Nassir knelt in the mud, and picked up his discarded knife, placing it in Arven's hand.

''"Rest well, brother."''

He stood, and began his long struggle back to the village. He did not look back.

'''Return'''

Even before he returned to the village, Nassir had resolved to never utter a word of what happened in the swamps. He had already broken his brother's honour once - it was better for him to have died in glory, fighting a worthy foe. When he collapsed into the arms of the village healer, Ruusaan, he weakly explained the spear embedded in his back as an accident - he had fallen on it when he had been bucked by the colossal crocodile. Of course, no aspirant would ever try to attack their ''vod'', especially not one's own brother. Nobody questioned his story. Nassir was left to ruminate, alone, haunted by his choices. Even as he was granted the honour of becoming a fully fledged clan warrior, as the laurels were draped around his shoulders, and the armour fastened to his body, he stood silent, staring at the woods outside the boundaries of the village.

''I am here. You are not. But I remember, so you are eternal.''

That night, Nassir sat outside his modest home, squatting on his haunches. He turned over Arven's knife in his hands. ''How did it come to this'', he thought to himself. Looking to the woods once again, he raised the pauldron that now adorned his scaled shoulders, and continued his spiral of scars, the method by which Clan Tycho makes their records. He cut into the flesh of his shoulder, letting the blood flow down his arm and drip onto the dirt below. Placing the knife by his side, he reached down and thrust his fingers into the earth, taking a handful. Muttering a traditional cant, he packed the wound with the dirt to ensure the scar was darkened. There had been no victory this day. He would always remember that. He stood, wrapping his shoulder in linens to staunch the bleeding, and stared one last time into the treeline, as if he expected Arven to emerge from between the darkened trunks, before somberly opening the door and walking inside.

'''The Scouring'''

Several years later, in the year 885, much was the same in Tycho. The funeral rites for the fallen aspirants of Nassir's party had come and gone, as had three others in the following years. He worked as a sentry, left on hunts with other warriors, and fulfilled his roles as dictated by the traditional ways of his people. It was in this particular year, however, that everything would change. Nassir lead an ''Oya'tsad'', a hunting party, into the swamps in search of food for the village. They had been successful, the four young warriors returning with as many deer and with their satchels rich with smaller game. Nassir lead proudly on, guiding the party back to the settlement, as was his role as the leader of the group. As the trees of the swamp began to thin, however, they realized the light did not grow with the retreat of the tree canopy - for the sun was shrouded in smoke.

The warriors increased their pace, from a steady walk, to a jog, to a run. They discarded their catch as they ran, ditching the (quite literally) dead weight, and drew their weapons. Nothing could have prepared them for what they saw.

As they reached the edge of the clearing, they saw their village in flames. Some warriors called battle cries, others rushed the village's children away from the carnage. Dozens of warriors already lay dead. As the hunting party sprinted across the clearing to the village, the cause of the destruction became clear - hunched in the flames of the communal hall that marked the center of the settlement was a fully grown, fire-spewing Red Dragon. It swung from side to side, trying to shake its massive wings to rid itself of the warriors clambering on its back and hacking at any exposed flesh they could find. Nassir screamed as he charged with his siblings-in-arms.

''"OYA!"''

The battle was unlike any they had ever seen. Fallen brothers and sisters were scattered across the ground like jacks. Flames whipped across the field, from the engulfed houses, the dragon, and some of the warriors alike. The elder warrior Kuurta, the man responsible for Nassir's training from childhood, was bisected by a swipe of the dragon's tail, a fountain of blood spraying from where his torso had been moments before. Two of Nassir's hunting party were crushed by a colossal slap from the monster's wing, their bones crumbling like brittle ''Haarshun'' bread. The warriors were undeterred. As every second went by, more and more fighters began to slash, stab, and hack at the monster's legs, wings, and neck. As Nassir joined the assault on the creature's legs, he saw the Clan's ''Alor'', Hedaar, stride fearlessly towards the beast, swinging his cleaver. The immense weapon bit into the knee of the dragon, severing its tendons and bringing it to a crushing halt. Bolstered by the display, the remaining warriors sang a rallying cry, continuing their assault with renewed vigour. The beast began to waver, staggering under the weight of dozens of warriors and hundreds of wounds.

It staggers.

It falls.

But it had not finished wreaking its toll.

As the beast lay, writhing in its death throes, it whipped around. Hedaar, the greatest warrior among them, stood in the path of its mighty jaws, bracing his sword against his forearm. The warriors watched in horror as the dragon clamped down on him, blood spurting from between its teeth. But it stopped. Instantly. As its jaws fell open, the mangled body of Hedaar tumbled from between its teeth, leaving his blade buried in the roof of its mouth, the tip glinting, tinged with blood, protruding from the top of its head. He had made a final sacrifice to ensure the rest of them would live.

When Nassir had left with his hunting party three days before, the Tycho clan had numbered 164.

As the dust settled, there were but 38.

'''Leaving the Homeland'''

-TBD-

==Languages==
Common, Draconic, Tycho'a (Clan Tycho's traditional language, yes I burned a language slot for this and no it doesn't provide any utility)

==Nassir's Mental Notes==
'''Marion'''

'''Lambda'''

'''Sneeze'''

'''Kompi'''

'''Paris'''

'''Sabbatical'''

'''Jim'''

==Attacks and Weapons ==
Nassir's preferred method of combat is with a massive greataxe, though he is prone when enraged to disregard his weapon and resort to animalistic brawling with teeth, claws and horns.<blockquote></blockquote>
[[Category:Player Characters]]
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]

Nassir Tycho

2023-04-17T16:06:34Z

ViscountTudon: continuation of story

<spotify>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5B6tsmLqdvoLGNjeU102jl?si=6bf581d52cfa48d0</spotify>
{{Infobox_character|affilliation=None|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=NassirTycho.jpg|caption="A valiant death or glorious victory, I will earn my clan honour either way."|relatives=Clan Tycho|languages=Common, Draconic|alias=|marital=Single|deathDate=|deathPlace=|species=Dragonborn (Brass)|gender=Male|height=7'3"|weight=364lbs|eyes=Yellow}}

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a Brass Dragonborn zealot barbarian, searching the world for glory for himself and his clan. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] Community Campaign.

==Physical Appearance==
Nassir is a hulking presence, wrought from years of physical labour, training, and combat. Towering over most others, elongated scales and spines dot his body, alongside a pair of immense horns. Clan ritual scars circle his arms and torso, etched into the brown and grey mottled scales to commemorate both victories and defeats.

==Personality==
The personality of Nassir is a dour and practical one. He is often gratingly blunt, and has no interest in dulling down his opinions for the sake of others, though rarely intends to offend. Much of his personality is dedicated to his almost religious dedication to the traditions of his people, the tenets of which dictate almost every major choice he might make. He has a strong aversion to any kind of falsity, considering deceit to be the hallmark of the coward, who has no place in the clan. He also has a distaste for those who choose to avoid martial combat, though rather than considering them cowards, he simply believes they are misguided for sacrificing the chance for the purest form of glory and martial achievement.

==History==
'''Early Childhood'''

Nassir was born in the winter of 866 to a family of 5, alongside a sister and a brother. His parents were lesser members of their clan of warriors, both by deed and by blood. His childhood was not an unusual one, and he and his siblings grew to the age of 5 as most young ones do - however, past this point, they would be subject to the harsh, draconian traditions of Clan Tycho.

Upon reaching the age of 5, every child of the Ordu begins the series of trials that determine their place in the clan. During the first night of their fifth year, Nassir and his siblings were taken from their beds, and brought into the wilds. They would be left there, defenseless, to fend for themselves for three days to ensure they had the strength to live amongst their elders.

'''First Trial'''

Nassir and his siblings were left approximately 10 miles from the settlement of Clan Tycho. Cold and alone, they fought to survive even the first night, abandoned in the dead of winter, and only managed to do so by finding an uprooted tree to huddle in the relative shelter of its roots. During the second day, Nassir suggested that the three of them split up to collect material to build shelter for the coming night, and find something to eat. This would be the last time he would see his sister. She vanished without trace searching on her own, and left Nassir and his brother Arven to huddle together alone. The final day of their first trial saw the true challenge of their ordeal - it happened that the uprooted tree they had been sheltering in was the home of a large boar. Upon its return, it attacked the two five year old boys, who were only just barely able to fight it off with the branches they had used to construct their primitive lodging. Nassir was gravely wounded during the encounter, though would be granted a mark of great honour - his first ritual victory scar, snaking around his wrist upon his return to the village the following day. The loss of Nassir's sister left a scar of its own, one of many marking losses Nassir would face.

'''Second Trial'''

Two years since the first ritual trial Nassir and his brother faced, it became time for their second. Now seven years old, they had both begun training in the basics of martial combat. Armed with primitive spears, they were cast out once again on their own on a hunt. They were to return with a beast, or to not return at all. The trial was an individual one, so Nassir and Arven went their separate ways in search of a prize to bring home. After several hours of searching and tracking, Nassir came upon and ambushed a young buck, catching it on his spear and killing it nearly instantly. Content with his trophy, he slung the deer over his shoulders and began his trek back to the village. About an hour passed marching through the trees with naught but the whispers of the wind passing through the trees - but...there! He heard the sound of someone calling out, weakly, for help. Following the noise, Nassir came upon Arven, lying wounded in the mud, alongside the corpse of a scorched beast Nassir could not recognize. Rushing to his brother's side, and realizing the severity of his wounds, he was faced with a difficult decision - rescue his brother, thus bringing Arven a great shame, or leave him to die. The answer, for Nassir, was simple.

Nassir dropped the carcass of the deer he had been carrying, and tied a thin rope around its legs and to his waist. With a grunt, he hefted Arven onto his shoulders and began the two hour journey home, covered in a vile mixture of mud and the blood of his own brother, through the fields of groaning trees.

Several hours later, the village had begun to write the two brothers off as dead. As the fires were lit approaching dusk, those on patrol were greeted with the sight of a stumbling, exhausted Nassir struggling to continue to walk. He made it to within 50 paces of the village edge before he collapsed, bringing both the sentries and his parents rushing to the two young dragonborn. It would not be until the following day that the story of what had happened would be told.

'''Shame'''

Nassir's actions in saving his brother had brought his sibling great shame. Through the following years, Arven began to resent him more and more - where tasks had once been cooperative, they became competitive. Everything Nassir did, his brother felt the need to exceed it to justify himself. As the years went on, and they grew older together, Arven's grudge grew; he would go so far as to damage Nassir's equipment to sabotage his trials and hunts, spike his drinks with toxic berries, anything that might have given him an edge. His actions did not go unnoticed - Nassir knew what his brother had been doing - but chose to let him continue. He could not risk losing another sibling.

When the two had grown to the age of fourteen, the worst thing that could have happened to their relationship, did. Both their father and mother were killed in battle, leaving the two young boys to fend for themselves. Alone, and with no supervision, they grew apart. They may have still been marked as brothers, but they rarely spoke and never trained together. The shame of Arven's rescue from his second trial was too much to bear.

'''Blooding'''

By the time Nassir had grown to sixteen, the age of adulthood in his Clan, he had far outgrown his brother. While this added another level to Arven's resentment, it was not nearly as incensing as Nassir's success. He had become something of a young leader in the village, and had progressed abnormally rapidly through his training. When the time came to perform the final trial, the ritual of Blooding, he was fully prepared. His brother, however, was not. Arven's grudges had driven him to shirk his responsibilities in favour of spite-fueled acts of sabotage and vandalism. When they, and three other aspirants, were sent out with their spears to hunt a beast worthy of their blooding, it was he who would trail behind the others. After two days of stalking the swamps, they found their prey.

As the hunting party crept through the undergrowth, they spotted a giant crocodile, abnormally large even by the standards of the species. Close to thirty feet long, by Nassir's estimate, the beast was a bulky mass of thick scale and rippling muscle. As the young dragonborn approached the beast from all sides, they leveled their spears in preparation. Jiite, daughter of Hereern the smith, struck first, followed by the four others. Nassir assaulted the creature from the rear-left quadrant, thrusting his spear into its hip in the hopes to immobilize the immense creature. Arven rushed forward as well, striking the beast from the same size. Jiite, the first to attack, was caught by the crocodile's immense tail as it whipped around. The sound was awful, and the audible crunch of her ribs only preceded the spine-shattering crack as her body was hurled into a nearby tree. She collapsed into the mud, dead before she hit the ground. The four others continued their assault, leaping onto the beast to attempt to stay away from its jaws and tail. Nassir hooked his claws into the hide of the monster, stabbing repeatedly at its head and eyes in an attempt to blind it. Duular, another of the aspirants, was not so fortunate - as the crocodile writhed, its jaws hooked onto him, and clamped shut. His screams were cut short by the beast rolling over onto his head. They were now just three. They continued their assault, re-invigorated, thrusting at gaps in the monster's scales that had been made by their earlier attacks. The last of the other aspirants, Aviil, son of Bardan, was thrown from the beast's back and crushed underneath it as it continued to thrash, leaving only Nassir and Arven to continue their battle. Still striking at the crocodile's head, Nassir let out a roar, both of rage and of grief, and drove his spear into the back of the creature's head. It finally punctured, properly. He leaned on the haft, driving it deeper into the base of the beast's skull, and kept pushing until the creature finally let out a rush of air, and lay dead.

And that's when he felt it.

A piercing, throbbing pain in his back.

He began to turn, but couldn't fully. There was something there, preventing it.

Arven stepped back.

He no longer held his spear.

'''Betrayal'''

Nassir paused for a moment, stunned. Surely, he thought, his brother must have missed the mark, trying to fell the beast. It would make sense, he had shirked his training frequently. But it was no mistake. Nassir watched horrified, breathing heavily, as his brother drew his knife. Unable to react, Nassir tried to stand as his brother pounced on him, years of anger and resentment finally spilling out into murder. Arven's knife drove into Nassir's shoulder, right below the collarbone. After the intensity of the battle, all Nassir could do to shove Arven off so he could stand.

Arven leapt at him again.

Nassir swung his hand with all his might, a desperate swing to defend himself.

''crrrchk''

The two spiraled off the back of the crocodile into the mud, the spear still stuck in Nassir's back shattering on impact with the ground. Nassir groans. His brother does not.

'''Aftermath'''

Nassir's desperate defense had cost him the rest of his family. He looked in horror as Arven lay in the mud just a few feet from him, his head angled unnaturally to the side, neck shattered from the ferocious impact. He felt sick. He hadn't meant to do that, he just wanted Arven to back up...had he? The simple doubt that his actions had been purely defensive wracked him with guilt. Of course their relationship had been strained...but he would never do that, would he? He struggled to his feet, dragging Arven's knife from his shoulder. He looked at it for a moment, observing the wear and tear on the subtle carvings that their parents had made when crafting the piece. Gingerly, he drew his own knife, and let it fall from his hands into the mud. He stumbled towards the crocodile, Arven's knife in hand, and fell to his knees in front of the beast. Using the knife, he severed an enormous foot from the creature as proof of his success. Once he had finished, he again struggled to his feet.

He turned to look at his brother, lying in the mud.

''"Ni su'cuy, gar kyr'adyc. Ni partayli, gar darasuum."'' He whispered the rite, voice hoarse and nearly gone from weeping. He wasn't convinced his brother deserved it. He wasn't convinced he deserved to say it.

Nassir knelt in the mud, and picked up his discarded knife, placing it in Arven's hand.

''"Rest well, brother."''

He stood, and began his long struggle back to the village. He did not look back.

'''Return'''

Even before he returned to the village, Nassir had resolved to never utter a word of what happened in the swamps. He had already broken his brother's honour once - it was better for him to have died in glory, fighting a worthy foe. When he collapsed into the arms of the village healer, Ruusaan, he weakly explained the spear embedded in his back as an accident - he had fallen on it when he had been bucked by the colossal crocodile. Of course, no aspirant would ever try to attack their ''vod'', especially not one's own brother. Nobody questioned his story. Nassir was left to ruminate, alone, haunted by his choices. Even as he was granted the honour of becoming a fully fledged clan warrior, as the laurels were draped around his shoulders, and the armour fastened to his body, he stood silent, staring at the woods outside the boundaries of the village.

''I am here. You are not. But I remember, so you are eternal.''

That night, Nassir sat outside his modest home, squatting on his haunches. He turned over Arven's knife in his hands. ''How did it come to this'', he thought to himself. Looking to the woods once again, he raised the pauldron that now adorned his scaled shoulders, and continued his spiral of scars, the method by which Clan Tycho makes their records. He cut into the flesh of his shoulder, letting the blood flow down his arm and drip onto the dirt below. Placing the knife by his side, he reached down and thrust his fingers into the earth, taking a handful. Muttering a traditional cant, he packed the wound with the dirt to ensure the scar was darkened. There had been no victory this day. He would always remember that. He stood, wrapping his shoulder in linens to staunch the bleeding, and stared one last time into the treeline, as if he expected Arven to emerge from between the darkened trunks, before somberly opening the door and walking inside.

'''The Scouring'''

Several years later, in the year 885, much was the same in Tycho. The funeral rites for the fallen aspirants of Nassir's party had come and gone, as had three others in the following years. He worked as a sentry, left on hunts with other warriors, and fulfilled his roles as dictated by the traditional ways of his people. It was in this particular year, however, that everything would change. Nassir lead an ''Oya'tsad'', a hunting party, into the swamps in search of food for the village. They had been successful, the four young warriors returning with as many deer and with their satchels rich with smaller game. Nassir lead proudly on, guiding the party back to the settlement, as was his role as the leader of the group. As the trees of the swamp began to thin, however, they realized the light did not grow with the retreat of the tree canopy - for the sun was shrouded in smoke.

The warriors increased their pace, from a steady walk, to a jog, to a run. They discarded their catch as they ran, ditching the (quite literally) dead weight, and drew their weapons. Nothing could have prepared them for what they saw.

As they reached the edge of the clearing, they saw their village in flames. Some warriors called battle cries, others rushed the village's children away from the carnage. Dozens of warriors already lay dead. As the hunting party sprinted across the clearing to the village, the cause of the destruction became clear - hunched in the flames of the communal hall that marked the center of the settlement was a fully grown, fire-spewing Red Dragon. It swung from side to side, trying to shake its massive wings to rid itself of the warriors clambering on its back and hacking at any exposed flesh they could find. Nassir screamed as he charged with his siblings-in-arms.

''"OYA!"''

The battle was unlike any they had ever seen. Fallen brothers and sisters were scattered across the ground like jacks. Flames whipped across the field, from the engulfed houses, the dragon, and some of the warriors alike. The elder warrior Kuurta, the man responsible for Nassir's training from childhood, was bisected by a swipe of the dragon's tail, a fountain of blood spraying from where his torso had been moments before. Two of Nassir's hunting party were crushed by a colossal slap from the monster's wing, their bones crumbling like brittle ''Haarshun'' bread. The warriors were undeterred. As every second went by, more and more fighters began to slash, stab, and hack at the monster's legs, wings, and neck. As Nassir joined the assault on the creature's legs, he saw the Clan's ''Alor'', Hedaar, stride fearlessly towards the beast, swinging his cleaver. The immense weapon bit into the knee of the dragon, severing its tendons and bringing it to a crushing halt. Bolstered by the display, the remaining warriors sang a rallying cry, continuing their assault with renewed vigour. The beast began to waver, staggering under the weight of dozens of warriors and hundreds of wounds.

It staggers.

It falls.

But it had not finished wreaking its toll.

As the beast lay, writhing in its death throes, it whipped around. Hedaar, the greatest warrior among them, stood in the path of its mighty jaws, bracing his sword against his forearm. The warriors watched in horror as the dragon clamped down on him, blood spurting from between its teeth. But it stopped. Instantly. As its jaws fell open, the mangled body of Hedaar tumbled from between its teeth, leaving his blade buried in the roof of its mouth, the tip glinting, tinged with blood, protruding from the top of its head. He had made a final sacrifice to ensure the rest of them would live.

When Nassir had left with his hunting party three days before, the Tycho clan had numbered 164.

As the dust settled, there were but 38.

'''Leaving the Homeland'''

-TBD-

==Languages==
Common, Draconic, Tycho'a (Clan Tycho's traditional language, yes I burned a language slot for this and no it doesn't provide any utility)

==Nassir's Mental Notes==
'''Marion'''

'''Lambda'''

'''Sneeze'''

'''Kompi'''

'''Paris'''

'''Sabbatical'''

'''Jim'''

==Attacks and Weapons ==
Nassir's preferred method of combat is with a massive greataxe, though he is prone when enraged to disregard his weapon and resort to animalistic brawling with teeth, claws and horns.<blockquote></blockquote>
[[Category:Player Characters]]
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]

Nassir Tycho

2023-04-16T16:01:48Z

ViscountTudon: Continuation of story. Sad boi hours this time

Nassir Tycho

2023-04-14T03:43:04Z

ViscountTudon: Final fix, also discovered the preview option lol

Nassir Tycho

2023-04-14T03:41:58Z

ViscountTudon: formatting fix

{{Infobox_character|affilliation=None|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=NassirTycho.jpg|caption="A valiant death or glorious victory, I will earn my clan honour either way."|relatives=Clan Tycho|languages=Common, Draconic|alias=|deathDate=|deathPlace=|species=Dragonborn (Brass)|gender=Male|height=7'3"|weight=364lbs|eyes=Yellow}}

<spotify>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5B6tsmLqdvoLGNjeU102jl?si=6bf581d52cfa48d0</spotify>

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a Brass Dragonborn zealot barbarian, searching the world for glory for himself and his clan. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] Community Campaign.

==Physical Appearance==
Nassir is a hulking presence, wrought from years of physical labour, training, and combat. Towering over most others, elongated scales and spines dot his body, alongside a pair of immense horns. Clan ritual scars circle his arms and torso, etched into the brown and grey mottled scales to commemorate both victories and defeats.

==Personality==
The personality of Nassir is a dour and practical one. He is often gratingly blunt, and has no interest in dulling down his opinions for the sake of others, though rarely intends to offend. Much of his personality is dedicated to his almost religious dedication to the traditions of his people, the tenets of which dictate almost every major choice he might make. He has a strong aversion to any kind of falsity, considering deceit to be the hallmark of the coward, who has no place in the clan. He also has a distaste for those who choose to avoid martial combat, though rather than considering them cowards, he simply believes they are misguided for sacrificing the chance for the purest form of glory and martial achievement.

==History==
'''Early Childhood'''

Nassir was born in the winter of 866 to a family of 5, alongside a sister and a brother. His parents were lesser members of their clan of warriors, both by deed and by blood. His childhood was not an unusual one, and he and his siblings grew to the age of 5 as most young ones do - however, past this point, they would be subject to the harsh, draconian traditions of Clan Tycho.

Upon reaching the age of 5, every child of the Ordu begins the series of trials that determine their place in the clan. During the first night of their fifth year, Nassir and his siblings were taken from their beds, and brought into the wilds. They would be left there, defenseless, to fend for themselves for three days to ensure they had the strength to live amongst their elders.

'''First Trial'''

Nassir and his siblings were left approximately 10 miles from the settlement of Clan Tycho. Cold and alone, they fought to survive even the first night, abandoned in the dead of winter, and only managed to do so by finding an uprooted tree to huddle in the relative shelter of its roots. During the second day, Nassir suggested that the three of them split up to collect material to build shelter for the coming night, and find something to eat. This would be the last time he would see his sister. She vanished without trace searching on her own, and left Nassir and his brother Arven to huddle together alone. The final day of their first trial saw the true challenge of their ordeal - it happened that the uprooted tree they had been sheltering in was the home of a large boar. Upon its return, it attacked the two five year old boys, who were only just barely able to fight it off with the branches they had used to construct their primitive lodging. Nassir was gravely wounded during the encounter, though would be granted a mark of great honour - his first ritual victory scar, snaking around his wrist upon his return to the village the following day. The loss of Nassir's sister left a scar of its own, one of many marking losses Nassir would face.

'''Second Trial'''

Two years since the first ritual trial Nassir and his brother faced, it became time for their second. Now seven years old, they had both begun training in the basics of martial combat. Armed with primitive spears, they were cast out once again on their own on a hunt. They were to return with a beast, or to not return at all. The trial was an individual one, so Nassir and Arven went their separate ways in search of a prize to bring home. After several hours of searching and tracking, Nassir came upon and ambushed a young buck, catching it on his spear and killing it nearly instantly. Content with his trophy, he slung the deer over his shoulders and began his trek back to the village. About an hour passed marching through the trees with naught but the whispers of the wind passing through the trees - but...there! He heard the sound of someone calling out, weakly, for help. Following the noise, Nassir came upon Arven, lying wounded in the mud, alongside the corpse of a scorched beast Nassir could not recognize. Rushing to his brother's side, and realizing the severity of his wounds, he was faced with a difficult decision - rescue his brother, thus bringing Arven a great shame, or leave him to die. The answer was simple.

Nassir dropped the carcass of the deer he had been carrying, and tied a thin rope around its legs and to his waist. With a grunt, he hefted Arven onto his shoulders and began the two hour journey home, covered in a vile mixture of mud and the blood of his own brother, through the fields of groaning trees.

Several hours later, the village had begun to write the two brothers off as dead. As the fires were lit approaching dusk, those on patrol were greeted with the sight of a stumbling, exhausted Nassir struggling to continue to walk. He made it to within 50 paces of the village edge before he collapsed, bringing both the sentries and his parents rushing to the two young dragonborn. It would not be until the following day that the story of what had happened would be told.

'''Shame'''

Nassir's actions in saving his brother had brought his sibling great shame. Through the following years, Arven began to resent him more and more - where tasks had once been cooperative, they became competitive. Everything Nassir did, his brother felt the need to exceed it to justify himself.

'''Blooding'''

-TBD-

'''Leaving Clan Tycho'''

-TBD-

==Languages==
Common, Draconic, Tycho'a

==Nassir's Notes==
'''Marion'''

'''Lambda'''

'''Sneeze'''

'''Kompi'''

'''Paris'''

'''Sabbatical'''

==Attacks and Weapons ==
Nassir's preferred method of combat is with a massive greataxe, though he is prone when enraged to disregard his weapon and resort to animalistic brawling with teeth, claws and horns.
[[Category:Player Characters]]
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]

Nassir Tycho

2023-04-14T03:40:49Z

ViscountTudon: Attempt for spotify (again)

{{Infobox_character|affilliation=None|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=NassirTycho.jpg|caption="A valiant death or glorious victory, I will earn my clan honour either way."|relatives=Clan Tycho|languages=Common, Draconic|alias=|deathDate=|deathPlace=|species=Dragonborn (Brass)|gender=Male|height=7'3"|weight=364lbs|eyes=Yellow}

<spotify>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5B6tsmLqdvoLGNjeU102jl?si=6bf581d52cfa48d0</spotify>

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a Brass Dragonborn zealot barbarian, searching the world for glory for himself and his clan. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] Community Campaign.

==Physical Appearance==
Nassir is a hulking presence, wrought from years of physical labour, training, and combat. Towering over most others, elongated scales and spines dot his body, alongside a pair of immense horns. Clan ritual scars circle his arms and torso, etched into the brown and grey mottled scales to commemorate both victories and defeats.

==Personality==
The personality of Nassir is a dour and practical one. He is often gratingly blunt, and has no interest in dulling down his opinions for the sake of others, though rarely intends to offend. Much of his personality is dedicated to his almost religious dedication to the traditions of his people, the tenets of which dictate almost every major choice he might make. He has a strong aversion to any kind of falsity, considering deceit to be the hallmark of the coward, who has no place in the clan. He also has a distaste for those who choose to avoid martial combat, though rather than considering them cowards, he simply believes they are misguided for sacrificing the chance for the purest form of glory and martial achievement.

==History==
'''Early Childhood'''

Nassir was born in the winter of 866 to a family of 5, alongside a sister and a brother. His parents were lesser members of their clan of warriors, both by deed and by blood. His childhood was not an unusual one, and he and his siblings grew to the age of 5 as most young ones do - however, past this point, they would be subject to the harsh, draconian traditions of Clan Tycho.

Upon reaching the age of 5, every child of the Ordu begins the series of trials that determine their place in the clan. During the first night of their fifth year, Nassir and his siblings were taken from their beds, and brought into the wilds. They would be left there, defenseless, to fend for themselves for three days to ensure they had the strength to live amongst their elders.

'''First Trial'''

Nassir and his siblings were left approximately 10 miles from the settlement of Clan Tycho. Cold and alone, they fought to survive even the first night, abandoned in the dead of winter, and only managed to do so by finding an uprooted tree to huddle in the relative shelter of its roots. During the second day, Nassir suggested that the three of them split up to collect material to build shelter for the coming night, and find something to eat. This would be the last time he would see his sister. She vanished without trace searching on her own, and left Nassir and his brother Arven to huddle together alone. The final day of their first trial saw the true challenge of their ordeal - it happened that the uprooted tree they had been sheltering in was the home of a large boar. Upon its return, it attacked the two five year old boys, who were only just barely able to fight it off with the branches they had used to construct their primitive lodging. Nassir was gravely wounded during the encounter, though would be granted a mark of great honour - his first ritual victory scar, snaking around his wrist upon his return to the village the following day. The loss of Nassir's sister left a scar of its own, one of many marking losses Nassir would face.

'''Second Trial'''

Two years since the first ritual trial Nassir and his brother faced, it became time for their second. Now seven years old, they had both begun training in the basics of martial combat. Armed with primitive spears, they were cast out once again on their own on a hunt. They were to return with a beast, or to not return at all. The trial was an individual one, so Nassir and Arven went their separate ways in search of a prize to bring home. After several hours of searching and tracking, Nassir came upon and ambushed a young buck, catching it on his spear and killing it nearly instantly. Content with his trophy, he slung the deer over his shoulders and began his trek back to the village. About an hour passed marching through the trees with naught but the whispers of the wind passing through the trees - but...there! He heard the sound of someone calling out, weakly, for help. Following the noise, Nassir came upon Arven, lying wounded in the mud, alongside the corpse of a scorched beast Nassir could not recognize. Rushing to his brother's side, and realizing the severity of his wounds, he was faced with a difficult decision - rescue his brother, thus bringing Arven a great shame, or leave him to die. The answer was simple.

Nassir dropped the carcass of the deer he had been carrying, and tied a thin rope around its legs and to his waist. With a grunt, he hefted Arven onto his shoulders and began the two hour journey home, covered in a vile mixture of mud and the blood of his own brother, through the fields of groaning trees.

Several hours later, the village had begun to write the two brothers off as dead. As the fires were lit approaching dusk, those on patrol were greeted with the sight of a stumbling, exhausted Nassir struggling to continue to walk. He made it to within 50 paces of the village edge before he collapsed, bringing both the sentries and his parents rushing to the two young dragonborn. It would not be until the following day that the story of what had happened would be told.

'''Shame'''

Nassir's actions in saving his brother had brought his sibling great shame. Through the following years, Arven began to resent him more and more - where tasks had once been cooperative, they became competitive. Everything Nassir did, his brother felt the need to exceed it to justify himself.

'''Blooding'''

-TBD-

'''Leaving Clan Tycho'''

-TBD-

==Languages==
Common, Draconic, Tycho'a

==Nassir's Notes==
'''Marion'''

'''Lambda'''

'''Sneeze'''

'''Kompi'''

'''Paris'''

'''Sabbatical'''

==Attacks and Weapons ==
Nassir's preferred method of combat is with a massive greataxe, though he is prone when enraged to disregard his weapon and resort to animalistic brawling with teeth, claws and horns.
[[Category:Player Characters]]
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]

Nassir Tycho

2023-04-14T03:39:03Z

ViscountTudon: Continued experimentation

{{Infobox_character|affilliation=None|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=NassirTycho.jpg|caption="A valiant death or glorious victory, I will earn my clan honour either way."|relatives=Clan Tycho|languages=Common, Draconic|alias=|deathDate=|deathPlace=|species=Dragonborn (Brass)|gender=Male|height=7'3"|weight=364lbs|eyes=Yellow}}

<nowiki><spotify></nowiki><nowiki>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5B6tsmLqdvoLGNjeU102jl?si=6bf581d52cfa48d0</nowiki><nowiki></spotify></nowiki>

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a Brass Dragonborn zealot barbarian, searching the world for glory for himself and his clan. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] Community Campaign.

==Physical Appearance==
Nassir is a hulking presence, wrought from years of physical labour, training, and combat. Towering over most others, elongated scales and spines dot his body, alongside a pair of immense horns. Clan ritual scars circle his arms and torso, etched into the brown and grey mottled scales to commemorate both victories and defeats.

==Personality==
The personality of Nassir is a dour and practical one. He is often gratingly blunt, and has no interest in dulling down his opinions for the sake of others, though rarely intends to offend. Much of his personality is dedicated to his almost religious dedication to the traditions of his people, the tenets of which dictate almost every major choice he might make. He has a strong aversion to any kind of falsity, considering deceit to be the hallmark of the coward, who has no place in the clan. He also has a distaste for those who choose to avoid martial combat, though rather than considering them cowards, he simply believes they are misguided for sacrificing the chance for the purest form of glory and martial achievement.

==History==
'''Early Childhood'''

Nassir was born in the winter of 866 to a family of 5, alongside a sister and a brother. His parents were lesser members of their clan of warriors, both by deed and by blood. His childhood was not an unusual one, and he and his siblings grew to the age of 5 as most young ones do - however, past this point, they would be subject to the harsh, draconian traditions of Clan Tycho.

Upon reaching the age of 5, every child of the Ordu begins the series of trials that determine their place in the clan. During the first night of their fifth year, Nassir and his siblings were taken from their beds, and brought into the wilds. They would be left there, defenseless, to fend for themselves for three days to ensure they had the strength to live amongst their elders.

'''First Trial'''

Nassir and his siblings were left approximately 10 miles from the settlement of Clan Tycho. Cold and alone, they fought to survive even the first night, abandoned in the dead of winter, and only managed to do so by finding an uprooted tree to huddle in the relative shelter of its roots. During the second day, Nassir suggested that the three of them split up to collect material to build shelter for the coming night, and find something to eat. This would be the last time he would see his sister. She vanished without trace searching on her own, and left Nassir and his brother Arven to huddle together alone. The final day of their first trial saw the true challenge of their ordeal - it happened that the uprooted tree they had been sheltering in was the home of a large boar. Upon its return, it attacked the two five year old boys, who were only just barely able to fight it off with the branches they had used to construct their primitive lodging. Nassir was gravely wounded during the encounter, though would be granted a mark of great honour - his first ritual victory scar, snaking around his wrist upon his return to the village the following day. The loss of Nassir's sister left a scar of its own, one of many marking losses Nassir would face.

'''Second Trial'''

Two years since the first ritual trial Nassir and his brother faced, it became time for their second. Now seven years old, they had both begun training in the basics of martial combat. Armed with primitive spears, they were cast out once again on their own on a hunt. They were to return with a beast, or to not return at all. The trial was an individual one, so Nassir and Arven went their separate ways in search of a prize to bring home. After several hours of searching and tracking, Nassir came upon and ambushed a young buck, catching it on his spear and killing it nearly instantly. Content with his trophy, he slung the deer over his shoulders and began his trek back to the village. About an hour passed marching through the trees with naught but the whispers of the wind passing through the trees - but...there! He heard the sound of someone calling out, weakly, for help. Following the noise, Nassir came upon Arven, lying wounded in the mud, alongside the corpse of a scorched beast Nassir could not recognize. Rushing to his brother's side, and realizing the severity of his wounds, he was faced with a difficult decision - rescue his brother, thus bringing Arven a great shame, or leave him to die. The answer was simple.

Nassir dropped the carcass of the deer he had been carrying, and tied a thin rope around its legs and to his waist. With a grunt, he hefted Arven onto his shoulders and began the two hour journey home, covered in a vile mixture of mud and the blood of his own brother, through the fields of groaning trees.

Several hours later, the village had begun to write the two brothers off as dead. As the fires were lit approaching dusk, those on patrol were greeted with the sight of a stumbling, exhausted Nassir struggling to continue to walk. He made it to within 50 paces of the village edge before he collapsed, bringing both the sentries and his parents rushing to the two young dragonborn. It would not be until the following day that the story of what had happened would be told.

'''Shame'''

Nassir's actions in saving his brother had brought his sibling great shame. Through the following years, Arven began to resent him more and more - where tasks had once been cooperative, they became competitive. Everything Nassir did, his brother felt the need to exceed it to justify himself.

'''Blooding'''

-TBD-

'''Leaving Clan Tycho'''

-TBD-

==Languages==
Common, Draconic, Tycho'a

==Nassir's Notes==
'''Marion'''

'''Lambda'''

'''Sneeze'''

'''Kompi'''

'''Paris'''

'''Sabbatical'''

==Attacks and Weapons ==
Nassir's preferred method of combat is with a massive greataxe, though he is prone when enraged to disregard his weapon and resort to animalistic brawling with teeth, claws and horns.
[[Category:Player Characters]]
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]

Nassir Tycho

2023-04-14T03:37:50Z

ViscountTudon: Attempt at spotify inclusion

{{Infobox_character|affilliation=None|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=NassirTycho.jpg|caption="A valiant death or glorious victory, I will earn my clan honour either way."|relatives=Clan Tycho|languages=Common, Draconic|alias=|deathDate=|deathPlace=|species=Dragonborn (Brass)|gender=Male|height=7'3"|weight=364lbs|eyes=Yellow}}

<nowiki><spotify></nowiki>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5B6tsmLqdvoLGNjeU102jl?si=6bf581d52cfa48d0<nowiki></spotify></nowiki>

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a Brass Dragonborn zealot barbarian, searching the world for glory for himself and his clan. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] Community Campaign.

==Physical Appearance==
Nassir is a hulking presence, wrought from years of physical labour, training, and combat. Towering over most others, elongated scales and spines dot his body, alongside a pair of immense horns. Clan ritual scars circle his arms and torso, etched into the brown and grey mottled scales to commemorate both victories and defeats.

==Personality==
The personality of Nassir is a dour and practical one. He is often gratingly blunt, and has no interest in dulling down his opinions for the sake of others, though rarely intends to offend. Much of his personality is dedicated to his almost religious dedication to the traditions of his people, the tenets of which dictate almost every major choice he might make. He has a strong aversion to any kind of falsity, considering deceit to be the hallmark of the coward, who has no place in the clan. He also has a distaste for those who choose to avoid martial combat, though rather than considering them cowards, he simply believes they are misguided for sacrificing the chance for the purest form of glory and martial achievement.

==History==
'''Early Childhood'''

Nassir was born in the winter of 866 to a family of 5, alongside a sister and a brother. His parents were lesser members of their clan of warriors, both by deed and by blood. His childhood was not an unusual one, and he and his siblings grew to the age of 5 as most young ones do - however, past this point, they would be subject to the harsh, draconian traditions of Clan Tycho.

Upon reaching the age of 5, every child of the Ordu begins the series of trials that determine their place in the clan. During the first night of their fifth year, Nassir and his siblings were taken from their beds, and brought into the wilds. They would be left there, defenseless, to fend for themselves for three days to ensure they had the strength to live amongst their elders.

'''First Trial'''

Nassir and his siblings were left approximately 10 miles from the settlement of Clan Tycho. Cold and alone, they fought to survive even the first night, abandoned in the dead of winter, and only managed to do so by finding an uprooted tree to huddle in the relative shelter of its roots. During the second day, Nassir suggested that the three of them split up to collect material to build shelter for the coming night, and find something to eat. This would be the last time he would see his sister. She vanished without trace searching on her own, and left Nassir and his brother Arven to huddle together alone. The final day of their first trial saw the true challenge of their ordeal - it happened that the uprooted tree they had been sheltering in was the home of a large boar. Upon its return, it attacked the two five year old boys, who were only just barely able to fight it off with the branches they had used to construct their primitive lodging. Nassir was gravely wounded during the encounter, though would be granted a mark of great honour - his first ritual victory scar, snaking around his wrist upon his return to the village the following day. The loss of Nassir's sister left a scar of its own, one of many marking losses Nassir would face.

'''Second Trial'''

Two years since the first ritual trial Nassir and his brother faced, it became time for their second. Now seven years old, they had both begun training in the basics of martial combat. Armed with primitive spears, they were cast out once again on their own on a hunt. They were to return with a beast, or to not return at all. The trial was an individual one, so Nassir and Arven went their separate ways in search of a prize to bring home. After several hours of searching and tracking, Nassir came upon and ambushed a young buck, catching it on his spear and killing it nearly instantly. Content with his trophy, he slung the deer over his shoulders and began his trek back to the village. About an hour passed marching through the trees with naught but the whispers of the wind passing through the trees - but...there! He heard the sound of someone calling out, weakly, for help. Following the noise, Nassir came upon Arven, lying wounded in the mud, alongside the corpse of a scorched beast Nassir could not recognize. Rushing to his brother's side, and realizing the severity of his wounds, he was faced with a difficult decision - rescue his brother, thus bringing Arven a great shame, or leave him to die. The answer was simple.

Nassir dropped the carcass of the deer he had been carrying, and tied a thin rope around its legs and to his waist. With a grunt, he hefted Arven onto his shoulders and began the two hour journey home, covered in a vile mixture of mud and the blood of his own brother, through the fields of groaning trees.

Several hours later, the village had begun to write the two brothers off as dead. As the fires were lit approaching dusk, those on patrol were greeted with the sight of a stumbling, exhausted Nassir struggling to continue to walk. He made it to within 50 paces of the village edge before he collapsed, bringing both the sentries and his parents rushing to the two young dragonborn. It would not be until the following day that the story of what had happened would be told.

'''Shame'''

Nassir's actions in saving his brother had brought his sibling great shame. Through the following years, Arven began to resent him more and more - where tasks had once been cooperative, they became competitive. Everything Nassir did, his brother felt the need to exceed it to justify himself.

'''Blooding'''

-TBD-

'''Leaving Clan Tycho'''

-TBD-

==Languages==
Common, Draconic, Tycho'a

==Nassir's Notes==
'''Marion'''

'''Lambda'''

'''Sneeze'''

'''Kompi'''

'''Paris'''

'''Sabbatical'''

==Attacks and Weapons ==
Nassir's preferred method of combat is with a massive greataxe, though he is prone when enraged to disregard his weapon and resort to animalistic brawling with teeth, claws and horns.
[[Category:Player Characters]]
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]

Nassir Tycho

2023-04-13T15:24:22Z

ViscountTudon: Cont. Story

{{Infobox_character|affilliation=None|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=NassirTycho.jpg|caption="A valiant death or glorious victory, I will earn my clan honour either way."|relatives=Clan Tycho|languages=Common, Draconic|alias=|deathDate=|deathPlace=|species=Dragonborn (Brass)|gender=Male|height=7'3"|weight=364lbs|eyes=Yellow}}

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a Brass Dragonborn zealot barbarian, searching the world for glory for himself and his clan. He is a character in the [[Within the Wicked Wilds]] Community Campaign.

==Physical Appearance==
Nassir is a hulking presence, wrought from years of physical labour, training, and combat. Towering over most others, elongated scales and spines dot his body, alongside a pair of immense horns. Clan ritual scars circle his arms and torso, etched into the brown and grey mottled scales to commemorate both victories and defeats.

==Personality==
The personality of Nassir is a dour and practical one. He is often gratingly blunt, and has no interest in dulling down his opinions for the sake of others, though rarely intends to offend. Much of his personality is dedicated to his almost religious dedication to the traditions of his people, the tenets of which dictate almost every major choice he might make. He has a strong aversion to any kind of falsity, considering deceit to be the hallmark of the coward, who has no place in the clan. He also has a distaste for those who choose to avoid martial combat, though rather than considering them cowards, he simply believes they are misguided for sacrificing the chance for the purest form of glory and martial achievement.

==History==
'''Early Childhood'''

Nassir was born in the winter of 866 to a family of 5, alongside a sister and a brother. His parents were lesser members of their clan of warriors, both by deed and by blood. His childhood was not an unusual one, and he and his siblings grew to the age of 5 as most young ones do - however, past this point, they would be subject to the harsh, draconian traditions of Clan Tycho.

Upon reaching the age of 5, every child of the Ordu begins the series of trials that determine their place in the clan. During the first night of their fifth year, Nassir and his siblings were taken from their beds, and brought into the wilds. They would be left there, defenseless, to fend for themselves for three days to ensure they had the strength to live amongst their elders.

'''First Trial'''

Nassir and his siblings were left approximately 10 miles from the settlement of Clan Tycho. Cold and alone, they fought to survive even the first night, abandoned in the dead of winter, and only managed to do so by finding an uprooted tree to huddle in the relative shelter of its roots. During the second day, Nassir suggested that the three of them split up to collect material to build shelter for the coming night, and find something to eat. This would be the last time he would see his sister. She vanished without trace searching on her own, and left Nassir and his brother Arven to huddle together alone. The final day of their first trial saw the true challenge of their ordeal - it happened that the uprooted tree they had been sheltering in was the home of a large boar. Upon its return, it attacked the two five year old boys, who were only just barely able to fight it off with the branches they had used to construct their primitive lodging. Nassir was gravely wounded during the encounter, though would be granted a mark of great honour - his first ritual victory scar, snaking around his wrist upon his return to the village the following day. The loss of Nassir's sister left a scar of its own, one of many marking losses Nassir would face.

'''Second Trial'''

Two years since the first ritual trial Nassir and his brother faced, it became time for their second. Now seven years old, they had both begun training in the basics of martial combat. Armed with primitive spears, they were cast out once again on their own on a hunt. They were to return with a beast, or to not return at all. The trial was an individual one, so Nassir and Arven went their separate ways in search of a prize to bring home. After several hours of searching and tracking, Nassir came upon and ambushed a young buck, catching it on his spear and killing it nearly instantly. Content with his trophy, he slung the deer over his shoulders and began his trek back to the village. About an hour passed marching through the trees with naught but the whispers of the wind passing through the trees - but...there! He heard the sound of someone calling out, weakly, for help. Following the noise, Nassir came upon Arven, lying wounded in the mud, alongside the corpse of a scorched beast Nassir could not recognize. Rushing to his brother's side, and realizing the severity of his wounds, he was faced with a difficult decision - rescue his brother, thus bringing Arven a great shame, or leave him to die. The answer was simple.

Nassir dropped the carcass of the deer he had been carrying, and tied a thin rope around its legs and to his waist. With a grunt, he hefted Arven onto his shoulders and began the two hour journey home, covered in a vile mixture of mud and the blood of his own brother, through the fields of groaning trees.

Several hours later, the village had begun to write the two brothers off as dead. As the fires were lit approaching dusk, those on patrol were greeted with the sight of a stumbling, exhausted Nassir struggling to continue to walk. He made it to within 50 paces of the village edge before he collapsed, bringing both the sentries and his parents rushing to the two young dragonborn. It would not be until the following day that the story of what had happened would be told.

'''Shame'''

Nassir's actions in saving his brother had brought his sibling great shame. Through the following years, Arven began to resent him more and more - where tasks had once been cooperative, they became competitive. Everything Nassir did, his brother felt the need to exceed it to justify himself.

'''Blooding'''

-TBD-

'''Leaving Clan Tycho'''

-TBD-

==Languages==
Common, Draconic, Tycho'a

==Nassir's Notes==
'''Marion'''

'''Lambda'''

'''Sneeze'''

'''Kompi'''

'''Paris'''

'''Sabbatical'''

==Attacks and Weapons ==
Nassir's preferred method of combat is with a massive greataxe, though he is prone when enraged to disregard his weapon and resort to animalistic brawling with teeth, claws and horns.
[[Category:Player Characters]]
[[Category:Wicked Wilds]]

Nassir Tycho

2023-04-09T20:14:37Z

ViscountTudon:

{{Infobox_character|affilliation=|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=NassirTycho.jpg|caption=Nassir Tycho|relatives=None|languages=|alias=|marital=Single|birthPlace=birthplace|deathDate=|deathPlace=|species=Dragonborn (Brass)|gender=Male|height=7'3"|weight=344lbs|eyes=Orange}}

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is a Brass Dragonborn zealot barbarian, searching the world for glory for himself and his clan.

==Physical Appearance==

==Personality==

==History==

==Languages==

==Powers and Abilities==

==Attacks and Weapons ==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

File:NassirTycho-ai.jpg

2023-04-09T20:12:47Z

ViscountTudon:

Dragonborn Barbarian Nassir Tycho

Nassir Tycho

2023-03-22T13:49:39Z

ViscountTudon: Basic setup prior to expansion

{{Infobox_character|affilliation=|name={{PAGENAME}}|image=Nassir.png|caption=Nassir Tycho|relatives=None|languages=|alias=|marital=Single|birthPlace=birthplace|deathDate=|deathPlace=|species=Dragonborn (Brass)|gender=Male|height=7'3"|weight=344lbs|eyes=Orange}}

'''{{PAGENAME}} '''is (Information on your heritage/background/class)

==Physical Appearance==

==Personality==

==History==

==Languages==

==Powers and Abilities==

==Attacks and Weapons ==

[[Category:Player Characters]]

File:Nassir.png

2023-03-22T13:38:44Z

ViscountTudon:

nassirTychoCharacterProfile