Campaign of the Month: April 2012
Gnome Air Warlock, Follower of Bennu
Complete character sheet is Here.
Tyvernos Oriflamme, supported by a stout stature, stood erect at an altitudinous two feet. A sun-licked, sandy-haired, wind-blown mop crowned his sallow complexion. The blustery gusts of the Northern Wilderness had permanently limned his rime-crusted rims with ruddy rouge. His portly paunched girth displayed prominently from behind a dirt-smeared, perspiration-paved camisole. As an undergarment, the Gnome had sworn secrecy regarding its former avail as a Wolfen handkerchief; it maintained the charade with plausibly piebald stains. Leather straps, once a tanner’s scraps, now swathed him in this year’s haute couture. A swatch of former-sock now draped lovingly about his diminutive shoulders as a makeshift shawl. Tyvernos, had cleverly inverted a Dwarven maid’s blouse, stepped daintily into the sleeves, and wore the garment after the fashion of calf-length Capri. None could deny the unmistakable markings of a true fashionista. Tyvernos dressed to impress and, clearly, ate to impress as well. He bore his wild, untamed nature like a mantle of dedication to both his Goddess and his Elemental patron. From afar he bore resemblance to a small, human orphan – lost in the wilderness – and raised by a pack of wild…Saint Bernards.
Tyvernos picture from Syreene. Full size picture can be found here.
“Are you expecting anyone?” from a soft feminine voice.
“At this hour? Not one of my students,” replied a harsh masculine baritone.
“Who would come calling in the middle of the night in such weather?”
“Any port in a storm…”
“Quiet, Oren, you cantankerous old fool. Obviously someone in dire-straits.”
“I’m determined to maintain the Elven reputation.”
“Hmph,” she clucked, “who am I to determine otherwise?”
“Still your tongue. We’ve too much longer to live together.”
“You have clearly displayed your awareness of the location of the door.”
The door swung open on well-oiled hinges.
“Oren, you’re never going to believe this!”
“It appears as though our mysterious visitor has fled.”
“Oh?” The tall, lanky elf appeared over her shoulder and espied the inclement conditions. “Nasty night to brave the elements.”
“Elements do not require bravery, my dear husband, they require faith.”
“…says the student to the teacher.” He smiled. “You make me proud. Now, please fetch my broom. It would appear as though our elusive caller took a warm, steamy dump on our stoop.”
“Heavens!” cried the female voice as her gaze lowered and quickly focused on the small, steaming brown mess on the forest floor. “Oren! It’s a baby!”
“Don’t play coy you old codger! It’s a little baby boy! See? Covered in swaddling clothes and…erm, a fair bit of filth.”
“Oh! I say! I believe you’re right. Now fetch my broom, woman.”
“How dare you! You’re not going to sweep a baby away!” She hurriedly bent and cradled the bundle to her breast. It fairly reeked and the woman crinkled her nose.
“The skies call to us this night. The elements speak. The heavens open their celestial arms and loose volleys of lightning arrows and a barrage of rain. This is an omen. We must not keep this child from his destiny.”
“Keep him we shall — but not from his destiny. What greatness may come of our generosity and open arms? It is, indeed, an omen, Oren. And you are too blind to recognize it for what it is.”
“Oh, I recognize it alright. It’s a f*%ing Gnome!”
Tyvernos was raised by Oren and his wife in the the forests near the river Mavex near Circle Lake in the Northern Wilderness. The closest town, many miles away, is Me’zfii Onh. He is summoned to join CrIsis while traveling in the Northern Wilderness by his goddess, Bennu, and is delivered to Ma’ip by a Phoenixi.
Tyvernos traveled to the Library of Alarassa with his father Oren 20 years ago. He has also met and had long discussions with a Zodiac Mage, who was Oren’s friend, as well as knowing an elven druid who was a descendant of the former Elven Druid nation. The Zodiac Mage, Firsar, has helped Tyvernos know that there is magic power in the Zodiac. He has seen ruins of the druids nation to the southeast of the river Mavex.
Tyvernos was born under the sign of the scholar. Those born under this sign tend to be more cerebral, slow to anger, and often look for answers even when none are apparent.