Description

A basic description of the character.

Appearance

Age: 22
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 190 lb.
Hair: Golden
Skin: Tanned

Wings, Orange Eyes, Taloned Fingernails, Tail, Pointed Ears

Mannerisms

Obvious mannerisms of the character.

Backstory

Thentia

Alrisia stared up at the night sky.  The heavy flap of wings continued to get louder, and closer to her balcony, but try as she might, she could not tell what approached.  Her hand strayed down to her gravid belly.

A large shadow emerged from the darkness into the light spilling out from the balcony door.  She smiled as the tiefling landed beside her.

He smiled back, revealing small fangs in an angelic face.  Dark skinned and light hair made it look like the smile was floating in the darkness surrounded by a light cloud.

“How was your patrol?” she asked.

“Lets go inside,” he said in a melodious voice. He reached out and her human hand was engulfed by his taloned hand.

Alrisia allowed herself to be pulled into the small attic apartment they rented above the tannery.  The smells from the tanning process made the apartment cheap, and kept prejudiced individuals from seeking out Sarlytte, her tiefling husband.

Alrisia stopped, her hand pulled out of Sarlytte’s.  Both of her hands dropped to her belly.

“It’s time.”

Her husband smiled and put a hand on her belly. “Little Sarwynn,” he said and then rushed out to fetch the midwife.

The Watchlord himself was at the door.  Sarwynn let him in and marveled at the fine clothes.  The Watchlord said nothing, he just pressed a platinum coin into his mother’s hand.  His mother started crying, and the confused tiefling boy went to console her.

“Is this Sarlytte’s boy?” asked the Watchlord.

His mother simply nodded.

“Come see me tomorrow boy.”  And just as abrupt as his arrival, the Watchlord was gone.

The next day, Sarwynn flew over to the Watchlord’s hall.  He didn’t even give his name, and was quickly ushered into a big room with a long table.  The table was surrounded by at least a dozen chairs.  One end of the table was being treated as a desk.  Reports of varying thicknesses were strewn about the desk portion, but the rest of the table was bare.  Sitting at the ‘desk’, was the Watchlord.

“Have a seat.”

Sarwynn sat a few chairs down from the officiousness at the end of the table.

“What’s your name?”

“Sarwynn,” said the boy.  His voice squeaked, but it was more due to the onset of puberty rather than nervousness.

“I’m Watchlord Travalsi.”

The Watchlord leaned back into this chair and stared up at the ceiling for a moment.  Looking back at the boy he smiled.

“Your father was a valuable member of our patrol group.  Reliable, keen eyed, and his reports were always thorough.”

Sarwynn nodded.  He only knew that this father liked his job.

“I know that his sudden death must be a bit of a shock, but the job was a dangerous one.  No other patroller has had a career as long as your fathers.  How old are you?” asked the Watchlord.

“Fifteen.”

“That’s not much younger than the age your father was when he first started.”

The Watchlord examined the boy long enough to make the boy squirm. The moment of indecisiveness passed eventually.

“I’d like to offer you your father’s job.  Essentially you fly over the major roads into the city, cover the harbour, as well as some key points within the city.  It usually took your father four or five hours to finish his route.  Then you would come here, write up a report, and that’s it.”

Sarwynn’s prospects for an apprenticeship were poor.  Tieflings were often passed over for the spots that did become available.  And he wasn’t strong enough to excel at a menial job such as strong-arming cargo at the docks.

“I don’t know how to write,” Sarwynn said.  The dejection dripped from his normally melodious voice.  A voice much like his father’s.

“You can give your reports orally for now, to whoever is Patrol Captain for the night. But, you’ll have to read and write.  I can’t have the Patrol Captain writing up your reports for you forever.”

Sarwynn’s smile was answer enough.

Alrisia wasn’t happy with her son’s new found employment.  Truth be told, since her husband’s death, she wasn’t happy with much.  Slowly the light left her eyes.  Two years after her husband’s passing, she too passed, having caught dysentery.

Phlan

His mother’s passing three years ago still weighed on Sarwynn.  His patrols as a result became longer and he took more risks. Often landing to investigate instead of solely aerial observations.  His reputation was growing; one where he was deemed fair but also enigmatic.

The nightly flights have made him a strong flyer, so when Sarwynn saw the twinkle of a campfire in the distance he banked hard and made a bee-line for it.  In the light of Selûne, the tiefling’s lean body and tucked wings flashed across the sky.

Before Sarwynn could make out anything in the vicinity of the campfire, the light winked out.

Sarwynn pulled out of his dive, and went into a wide circular flight around the spot of the campfire.  Straining his dark-vision to its limits, he couldn’t make out anything other than a patch of inky darkness that flitted around the edges of vision.  The darkness seemed to be centred on the location of the campfire.

Obviously, someone was trying to avoid detection.  Having made the decision to investigate further, he landed some distance outside the area of darkness.  He waited, straining his ears to hear anything in the black depths.  Rustling.  Perhaps someone was moving carefully.

For somebody who grew up with dark-vision, the darkness made him very nervous.  It was one thing to land and investigate, it was another to step into the unknown.

Suddenly the darkness disappeared to reveal a grey bearded elderly human standing by a campfire.

“Good evening,” said the man.

“I am a member of the Thentia Watchlord’s Patrol.  What is your business here?” demanded Sarwynn.

The man smiled disarmingly.  “I am a member of the Moonsea Glory, a society that is monitoring the aftermath of the destruction of Myth Drannor.”

“Why did you attempt to hide?”

“As you may or may not be aware, there are a number of factions within Castlekeep which have targeted the combined ruins of Myth Drannor and Thultanthar and the magics that may have been produced.  They believe we are competing with them, but we are more concerned with the ramifications of the cataclysm to the surrounding areas.  It is easier to maintain a low profile rather than come into confrontation with them.”

“What are you suggesting?  That Thentia may be in danger?”  Sarwynn looked worried.  The conversation had quickly strayed into topics of which he had no knowledge.

“There is no immediate danger.  But the effect of the cataclysm on the Weave has been significant.  The ripples continue to spread.”

“So, you are going around monitoring for any issues?”

“Essentially,” said the old man as he lowered himself to sit on an upright log beside the fire.  He patted the ground beside him.  “Sit, my neck can not take straining up to look at you.”

The old man seemed harmless, so Sarwynn settled down beside the man.

“If fact, we have a number of members spread around the regions around Myth Drannor.  I simply visit these members and collect their reports.”

Sarwynn nodded.  “Seems benign enough.”

“Oh, definitely.  We have no designs on Thentia, or any other town for that matter.”

The old man was sizing up Sarwynn with an interest that the young man found disconcerting.

“Look.  I’m getting a little too old for this travelling.  You seem like a capable young tiefling.  And my feet and back are sore... I wish I had wings like yours.  How would you like a new job?”

“What?”  Sarwynn was more than confused.  Nobody had ever expressed the desire to be like him.  He was tolerated by some, but usually dismissed by others.

“Would you like a new job?  I'm getting too old for this activity.  You can take over from me.  You would get to travel to many of the regions around Myth Drannor.  And, other than maintaining a low profile, it should be less risk than patrolling Thentia for brigands.”

Sarwynn had no idea how to respond.  He never thought his ability to fly would ever translate into a new job.  But, it sounded exciting to not fly the same route around Thentia over and over again.

“I don’t know much about the Weave or magic.”

“Not a problem.  You would only need to collect the reports from our members, and to pass on instructions when needed.  So, what do you say?”

“How much would I be paid?”

The old man smiled.  “You would get three gold coin every tenday.”

Sarwynn tried not to react, but the amount was three times more than he currently earned.  It was more than the two gold pieces per tenday that the City Watch earned.  Thinking carefully, he asked, “Living on the road can be expensive.  Rooms and meals at inns, can cost much more than three gold coins every tenday.”

“Oh, yeah, no worries on that friend.  Members are obligated to provide room and board for you while you are in town.  And while in Phlan where we are headquarted, you can stay with one of the senior members.”

“Deal!”

The old man laughed and held out his hand.  “My name is Herkdl.  Welcome to the Moonsea Glory.”

Get Out

Sarwynn landed quietly on the terrace of Herkdl’s manse.  After flying covert missions for years, his landings were now whisper quiet.  It was well past midnight, and no light leaked from the windows of the house.

Sarwynn was about to knock on the door when he heard voices from inside.

“I am telling you Frajip, what I propose will work.”  The voice was Herkdl’s, but more authoritative then the nonchalant tone he usually took when talking to Sarwynn. Sarwynn had no idea who this Frajip was.

“Even if the link to the pool is maintained when water is removed from the pool, I don’t see how the fire is going to contribute to communicating with Tyranthraxus.”  The voice was soft, but dripped with sibilants.

“Everyone knows that when exercising his power, Tyranthraxus could cause his host to erupt in a fiery aura.  I believe our last few attempts didn’t mimic the host in this state.  Effectively drowning a body in the pool reflects his current state, not the state when he is in possession.”

“What you say has merit.  But we need a host you can survive the ritual.  I would hate to try to chain heal a host through the ordeal.”

Sarwynn had heard enough.  Tyranthraxus was a name feared around Moonsea.  That his employer was seeking to bring the evil creature back into the world was a shocking surprise.  None of this made any sense, why would the Moonsea Glory have anything to do with such an evil being.

As he turned to go, his wing tip bumped into the door.  The soft knock sounded loud in the still night.

He stepped forward to take flight when he was suddenly unable to move.  The door opened and out came two men, dressed in ceremonial red and black robes.  One was Herkdl, looking much more imposing then when wearing his normal nondescript clothing.  The other was dark haired, with big bushy eyebrows that shadowed his eyes.  Even when smiling, he suspected this man would still look evil. He was not smiling at the moment.

“And this is...?” asked Frajip.

“This is Sarwynn.”  Herkdl was smiling pleasingly.

“Ah, your new messenger for the Eyes.”

Eyes?  Who are the Eyes?  Sarwynn had been told he was working for the Moonsea Glory.

“Have you introduced him to the temple yet?”

“No.  While he’s valuable in his role for the Eyes, he doesn’t have the temperament or passion for the Waiting Temple.”

“How did you keep him from knowing what the real purpose of the Eyes are about?  After all, its not every day that someone is trying to secure a fresh dragon egg.”  Frajip was sizing up Sarwynn like he was a side of beast hanging in a shop window.

“Half of the Eyes don’t even know what we are looking for.  They follow the protocols we have put forth, get a stipend for every third report, and compensation for any assistance they give.  A dragon egg available for purchase is one of the ‘strange things’ we have asked them to keep an eye out for.”

“You always were a wily old coot.”

Sarwynn struggled, but still could not move a muscle.  He couldn't talk, and could only look at the two men with his peripheral vision.

“Why are you smiling?” asked Frajip looking at Herkdl.

“I believe we just solved one of our problems.”

“Which problem is that?”

“How to keep a host alive through the fire of course.”

Frajip smiled then.  Sarwynn was right, the man still looked evil.

Four days passed with Sarwynn chained naked above a pit in the basement of Herkdl’s manse.  He had no idea the basement was so large, as there was nothing to see from the outside that the manse had a basement at all.

Arms, wings and legs were stretched in different directions.  His muscles and tendons were stretched to their limit and his joints felt like they were going to pop.  Sarwynn wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball.

Below him, in the pit, was an ever growing pile of wood and noxious fluids.  The smell made him lightheaded.

He had received no water, and only a dry biscuit in the mornings.  The thirst was driving him insane, and was likely an equal cause of his lightheadedness.

Six figures in black and red robes shuffled into the stone lined windowless room.  Herkdl led the procession, and Farjip was the last to enter.  Farjip was the only one carrying anything... in his right hand was a mug of water, in his left hand was a torch.

Farjip gave Sarwynn that evil smile, and held the mug to his lips.  The water didn’t taste right, but Sarwynn was too thirsty to refuse.  Just as the last of the water left the mug to fall on his still parched tongue, Farjip dropped the torch he was carrying into the pit.

The noxious fumes turned into noxious smoke and the flames grew quickly.  The fire didn’t bother Sarwynn, but the smoke did.  His body convulsed as he tried to cough.

The six clerics began to chant, and the room was cast into magical darkness.

Sarwynn felt the water he drank flow down to his stomach, and he immediately had the sense of it flowing to his extremities.  The smoke played havoc with his senses, and soon he was barely conscious.

Slowly, Sarwynn became aware of another entity... an entity entering his mind.

“Get out!” Sarwynn screamed.

Ahh, who is this?

Sarwynn tried to speak, but couldn’t.  Instead a vast intelligence entered his mind.

A tiefling.  Interesting.  Not a very capable tiefling, though there is some potential.

His body, unaware to Sarwynn, began to convulse as the foreign entity poked and probed in his mind.  He wanted to scream at the invasion, but couldn’t.

Sarwynn is it?  It’s nice to meet you Sarwynn.  Ah... I see.  My followers seek to have me join them in their world.  Interesting.  Alas, I am not ready.  And you my dear Sarwynn, are wholly insufficient.  Can you even read and write?

Suddenly, Sarwynn found that he could read and write, as Tyranthraxus’s intelligence seeped into his own.  And not in the common tongue as he was already taught, but in Draconic, Celestial, and Infernal.  Other knowledge poured in as well, but while it imprinted into his memory, he could not make much sense of it.

Oh ho! The little tiefling is a fast learner!  Interesting.  How about I let you go so that you can play with my little worshippers, hmm?  Here are some cantrips.  Hopefully, the next time they perform this ritual, they’ll have a more suitable host ready for me, a host like a dragon.

And much more suddenly than his arrival, Tyranthraxus was gone.

Fleeing

The Waiting Temple clerics continued their chant in the darkness they created.  The flames, unseen, suddenly exploded in the room as all of the flammable material in the pit was consumed at once.

The darkness winked out and Sarwynn had to squint against the blinding light.

Using his new found knowledge, Sarwynn casts a magical hand to undo the chains holding him.

Two figures on the ground moved weakly, and eventually one of them picked themselves up.  All of the robes were smouldering. The other four bodies didn’t move.

“Did it work?” asked a hairless Frajip.  He looked distinctly less evil without eyebrows.

“Yes, it worked...” said Sarwynn as he was finally free to stand on the heated stone floor.

“...but Tyranthraxus said next time, use a dragon.”

The blast of eldritch fire burst from his hand to strike the cleric in the chest.  Frajip crumpled to the ground, twitching.

The other cleric showing signs of life, Herkdl, cast some sort of spell at Sarwynn while lying on his belly.  But whatever it was, it had no effect as it hit the far wall and missed Sarwynn completely.  Eldritch fire again left his hands.  Herkdl’s head struck the ground, dead.

Other bodies began to move weakly.  Free from the chains, Sarwynn was in no mood to get into a fight to the death with the clerics of Tyranthraxus, so he fled.

Running upstairs, he found that the came out at a hidden panel in Herkdl’s study.  Sarwynn quickly scanned the shelves and desks.  He grabbed two items, the book detailing the Eyes network, and Herkdl’s prized forgery kit, which was used to write all instructional messages for the Eyes.

Rushing out onto the terrace, Sarwynn painfully and slowly took to the skies.  His wings seared with pain, but he needed to get as far away from the Waiting Temple as possible.

A fire bolt hit him, but did no damage.  He looked back to the terrace to see a hairless tall figure. Frajip.

Stealing clothes.  Flying at night.  Hiding during the day.  Sarwynn makes his way towards the coast.  Things go reasonably well.  The Eyes he makes contact with are not aware of what has happened, and he is able to use their hospitality to recover his strength.

That is, until he got to Waterdeep.  There was no way of knowing that the Waiting Temple would have changed their protocols.  When he used the old protocol of touching his left ear lobe with his right fore finger, he was attacked.  Immediately.

His cover blown, he was forced to flee again, this time he headed north, up the coast, and stayed away from larger towns and cities. Without the book he carried, whoever replaced Herkdl at the Waiting Temple wouldn’t know all of the small towns where they had agents.

Past the Sword Mountains, he headed inland, to avoid ships that may have carried news of him faster than he can wing himself through the night.  He eventually came to the frontier town of Phandalin.  After being put up in the inn by the local Eye, he shared a beer with an adventurer in the inns great room.  He decided to stay a couple of days.  Its the first friend he’s made in weeks of running.