The Architect of Ruins
devout, singleminded falchion-wielding elven avenger of Melora.
Class: Avenger Align: Un Age: 26 Ht.: 5'7" Wt.: 135lbs. Hair: Dark Brown Eyes: Green Deity: Melora Homeland: Montserrat Monastery STR: 12 AC: 21 Armor Type: Repulsion Leather +1 DEX: 17 HP: 57 CON: 14 Fort: 16 Ref: 17 Will: 18 INT: 10 Init. Mod: +5 WIS: 19 Lang: Elf, Common CHA: 9 POWERS: At-Will: Bond of Pursuit, Overwhelming Strike Encounter: Oath of Enmity, Abjure Undead, Divine Guidance, Angelic Alacrity, Sequestering Strike Daily: Aspect of Might, Bond of Foresight Falchion Sword: +11 to hit/2d4+6 dmg. for WIS attacks Long Bow: +7 to hit/1d10+3 dmg Dagger: +9/+8 (melee/thrown) to hit/1d4+4/+3 dmg. Special Abilities: Elven Accuracy, Low-light Vision, Wild Step, Censure of Pursuit Feats: Leather Armor, Melee Training, Toughness Skills: *Stealth +12, *Perception +13, *Acrobatics +10, Insight +8, *Nature +13 Legacy Items: Vicious Falchion Sword (+2), Repulsion Leather Armor (+1), Cloak of Distortion (+1) Magic and Mundane Items: Backpack, Restful Bedroll, Flint & Steel, Belt Pouch, Trail Rations (8), Silk Rope 50', Silver Holy Symbol, Grapple Hook, Waterskin, Vial of Ghost Strike Oil, Potion of Regen. Wish List: Iron Armbands of Power (lvl 6), Strikeback Gloves (lvl 10)
The Nibelheim Times
Sunnudagur, Ma the 30th, in the year
In our efforts to report more fully to you, the citizens of Nibelheim, on the gathering of Sola’s potential saviors, we at The Nibelheim Times are publishing profiles on each of those who bear the True Mark of the Avatar. This week’s profile will focus on the Elf Avenger, Naryl Talowyn.
Naryl arrived in Nibelheim as a kind of gift from the monks of the Monastery at Montserrat, high atop the breathtaking forested northern mountainrange. He is the blessed of an order of monks there who practice a form of worship of the goddess Melora since time immemorial.
Naryl’s authenticity as one of the marked has been confirmed by the High Council, and it is said that only they and the monks of that high mountain monastery know why he is among the chosen.
The Nibelheim Times had the opportunity of sitting down with the marked Elf in between meditations and his martial training this past Miavikudagur. In our usual fashion, we presented Naryl with a number of hard-hitting questions to get you, the reader, the facts you so desire.
Nibelheim Times: Do you think you are the chosen one, the Avatar of Sola?
Naryl: I don’t know. Neither do I concern myself with this possibility.
NT: Well, the people of Sola are concerned with this possibility. They want to make sure the High Council is sending out heroes who believe in themselves. What can you tell us that will assure the populace of your pedigree? What makes you one of the marked?
N: I am an offering to and from the gods of the Elves. I am a rider of moonlight, I am vengeance from the four-cornered winds, I am a predator of those so married to civility they are frightened of the sounds of the forest at night, so intoxicated with magic that they think they can pervert the fabric of nature, I am a servant of one who will see justice meted out on those wind weirds called the Feywild masters, who will see peace restored on this continent.
NT: You sound a little like Ruta. Word has it that you’ve been hanging around the half-elf soothsayer. Is there anything to those rumors that things go beyond the platonic niceties experienced between neighbors when you two get together?
N [shifts uncomfortably]: No.
NT: I don’t know if hanging out with her lends credence or doubt to your authenticity. Maybe I should just ask more straightforwardly. Are you the Avatar?
N: As the gods will it.
NT: Well, how would you feel if you found out you were the Avatar of Sola?
N: Whether I am the Avatar or not makes little difference to me. I’m not consumed by this cult of the Avatar you’re promoting. I am aware of the prophecy, but the only thing that matters to me is the inevitable confrontation with the corrupt Fey Lords. I worship the Mistress of the Wilds, Melora. The Fey Masters are playing usurpers to her power, desecrating it with their brutal and careless control of the Sola winds. They will feel the judgment of the gods, cold and sharp upon their bodies. [Naryl unsheathes his sword with intimidating speed, looks down the length of the blade at his interviewer, and then returns it to its resting place.]
NT [Claws the air with bare hands]: Rraarrrrr. Go get ‘em, tiger.
NT: Okay, so what if you’re not the one? How would you feel if one of the others turned out to be the Avatar?
N: Look, you’re not understanding me. I mean to fulfill the aims of my goddess as well as I’m able. The prophecy of the Avatar is only a pretense for my involvement in this quest. I mean no dishonor to the Avatar’s role, but regardless of who the Avatar is, I will not rest until the blood of the Fey Masters coats my blade like a thick, thunderous rain on the branches of a thirsty, angry forest.
NT: Wow. Angry forests, huh? All right. Sounds like your pretty zealous about overcoming the Fey Masters. I can see why the gods picked you to play a part.
N: Don’t presume to see through the eyes of the gods.
NT [Humbled]: Okay, next question. You seem to carry some pretty hot equipment- that sword you were just swinging in my face for instance, and that armor your wearing, and that sweet cloak. Who’s your sponsor?
N: My sword was a gift to me from my goddess. I found it in a visionwalk in the mouth of a shark, then in the belly a wolf, and finally in the talons of a dragon. When I awoke, it was in my right hand as if it were a part of me, like a branch that had grown from my palm, which ever after bore the mark of Sola. My armor was a gift from my order, an heirloom item treasured by the monk’s for its powers. It was useless to them, an item that was awaiting me, they say. The cloak is the only object I possess from my family. It bears no crest, but it protects me. I am without kin, but I am safe within the fold of my order and the holy reach of my goddess. This cloak is a reminder of a life that is both mine and not mine. All three of these items, in fact, speak to this truth.
NT: [Nodding for show.] How did you end up at the monastery?
N: It is a custom that the seventh son of all Elohim Elves be given over to the monks at Monserrat in reverence to Melora. This is an homage to our lady of nature, a tradition of self and familial sacrifice that binds each elf and family to our goddess. Those that enter the monastery to live by the vows and rights of the order live as elves of old had lived, first out of the Feywilds, into the Naturewilds, a new breed of being in a new holy host, newly cultured in divine, intuitive, wildtouched ways. In today’s age, with the rise of man, most families are mindful not to have more than six children. Those that don’t, give up their seventh as a monk and a child of Melora, in honor of those left in the Feywild in our ancient journey here. I was a seventh, as are all of the monks at Montserrat, and given over to the service of our goddess. Upon my arrival, I was recognized as a blessed one, chosen for a separate path than the others.
NT: Why was that?
N: I cannot say.
NT: [Sports a look of incredulity.] So, do you know your family? Keep in touch?
N: Once we are of Montserrat, we are no longer kin to family but all that is wild, natural, ancient, and arcane. I am in touch with my goddess every day. It is difficult in the town, but I spend many of my days in the forest, on solitary walks, in search of her wisdom. I long for the days when I can hunt my enemy and kill him in the quickness of my reach. This waiting time is the hardest on one like me. I feel like my purpose is suspended, like I am in a waking hibernation.
NT: Of course you do.
Okay, that wraps up our interview with Naryl. Next week, will it be the goliath warden or the human sorcerer? The shaman or the guilded-voiced maestro himself? Who will be Sola’s Avatar profile of the week? Until you find out in next Sunnudagur’s weekend addition of The Nibelheim Times- Tally ho, reader!
Naryl spends his days in the woods, taking long walks and training with the earth warden goliath. He respects this ancient race and the path the goliath walks. He also has a good report with the shaman. The others, as well as they are expressedly committed to the quest before them, have earned Naryl’s confidence in arms.
At night, Naryl stays in one of three places, in the Temple (if that’s possible), with the Warden in town, or alone in the night. At least once a week he will spend a night in the wild. Unfailingly, however, in the day time he returns to meet with the stewards of the prophecy and train with the other marked of Sola. He is anxious to get started on their journey.
He is most comfortable around the company of elves and religious types, since that is what he is used to. However, he sees the benefit of trying to branch out. He has taken, in the past two weeks, to seeking out the audience of Ruta. He is compelled to listen to her, as if her story will somehow shed a light on his own. He sees her as being singularly blessed in a way that he has been, and wonders if finding out more about her, trying to understand her power or perhaps just listening to her message, might be a way for him to know more of himself and his role in relation to those who have identified him as such. Being effectively an orphan, the thoughts of origin are always somewhere in the consciousness of Naryl, even if they are buried deep behind the desire to do his goddess proud and slay the Fey masters.