The Gray Vale War
Elven Ranger, sarcastic with a mean (bordering on sociopath) streak, that has a troubling past and struggles internally dealing with it.
Str: 16 Con:15 Dex:16 Int:10 Wis:14 Chr: 8
AC:16 HP: 32 weapons: Longsword (2)/ Longbow
Fort:14 Ref: 14 Will:12
Powers: Twin Striker Hit and Run Elven Accuracy Twin Fang Strike
Therranin is a Wild elf ranger from untamed Forest of Ethrona’All.
He was born about 30 years ago, though he is not really sure. He and his older brother, Gabrellien, were taken in, by a kind, but brutally tough, half orc ranger by the name of Keyllor The Roaring at a young age.
He remembers as a young boy asking Keyllor about his parents, and the response was unusual: tearing up, silence a firm pat on the head and a “when you get older little one”, from a person who feared nothing and was as large as he was imposing.
The boys were raised by this ranger and taught the ways of nature and to live and respect the ways of the harsh wilderness. They were taught at a young age that life can be cruel, by watching the sick and old get singled out, hunted and killed by packs of wolves to watching a young bear cub stray from mother’s watch to fall victim to the dangers of the forest.
“No one is safe and anyone can fall victim. Always be prepared, Always look for an advantage, Do not underestimate your Enemy.” The teachings of Keyllor, were not always harsh though….. There were many days spent traveling through the forests listening to all of the creatures, tracking them, learning their habits and tendencies and what to hunt and what to avoid.
Therranin was a very intelligent boy, who sometimes would have a tendency to play practical jokes on his brother, father and various denizens of the forest. (egging grizzly bears with rotten eggs usually doesn’t have good results, nor does hiding a hornet’s nest in Keyllor’s back pack) Therranin and Gabrellian were very close, but constantly competing against each other as brothers tend to do. Whether it be archery, fishing, tracking, or plant identification, older brother always used to have a leg up on Therranin. This drove him harder and harder to be the best at whatever the contest was, to win the tough love of his “father figure”, Keyllor.
Keyllor and the boys (15 and 18) were acting as the guides for a small well armed caravan of merchants transporting goods of a unknown and magical nature through the forests of Myth Drannor. On a black and moonless they were ambushed by a drow marauding party. The caravan was visibly out-matched and slaughtered. Therranin vividly remembers seeing his father trying to protect he and his brother, only to be shot with a poisoned arrow. While drugged, tied, and on his knees, Keyllor was decapitated by the raiding band’s leader, a Drow wearing all black leather with a purple scar running from his forehead to his chin. Keyllor looked at Therranin and tried to say something just before his head was removed from his body.
A drow priestess of LLolth was the one of the leaders of the group, and she giggled in delight with the havok and agony she was creating. The boys fled in fear and partly because of survival instincts kicking in(they have never seen Drow but have heard of the evil vile creatures of the underworld). The two brothers ran to the safety of the forest only to be shrouded in a cloud of complete darkness. Two shots rang out into the cloud Therranin heard his brother wince in pain, and then himself. His body froze up and he was paralyzed. He remembers being dragged in the forest and over stones and logs body being scraped and scarred.
Finally what seemed like hours the raiding party stopped at a clearing in the forest near the mouth of a large cave. At this clearing there was sigils and signs surrounded by countless red candles that gave off a noxious sulfur smell. He remembers his brother being carried into the center and held down by four drow soldiers, smiling on what was to happen next. The dark clad Drow who had killed Keyllor was now standing over his brother, as the priestess of Lloth recited an incantation ( a thanks to the god Llotlh for a successful war raid) next was the sound of a dagger being unsheathed. The dagger was piercing his brother’s naked chest slowly and deliberately, the evil drow priestess taking her time and cherishing the moment. Gurgled sounds of blood and labored breathing of the last moments of his brothers fleeting life, and Therranin was helpless to do anything.
Next was a flash of light, the sounds of elvish being shouted and the sounds of arrows whizzing in the air and the clash of steel. Then all went black…..................
Therranin was rescued by a party of elves led by At’lar Sembith Mayall the High Captain of the Army in Amamiloth. Most of the drow were killed, but the High Priestess and whatever was stolen by the raiding party had gotten away. With the last of his family dead, Therranin has spent years wandering the lands of Fareun with a chip on his shoulder, alone hunting, trading with merchants when he only has to, not knowing what he wants or expects of life. The only time he feels a true sense of fulfillment is killing things of evil that endanger the forest. He has a tendency to mark up the bodies of goblinoids(almost taking TOO much pleasure) pretty badly to serve as a stern warning to others. Many times he relives the nightmares of his past through horrible dreams, waking up in a cold sweat….................. with the the thoughts of “why couldn’t I do anything to help the ones I love?” ring in his head over and over. The sigil of the high Priestess from(house LyLyL) is one that he will never forget.
Personality traits: Smart ass, very dry humor, impatient, reserved, loyal, cynical, intelligent, can be a bit of a jokester, has a cruel Dr. Lector Streak when it comes to enemies