by bac8434 » 05 Nov 2012, 17:19
Adran Kentus
Ranger
Alignment: Neutral Good
Occupation: N/A
“Blasted Fancy Pride,” Adran mumbled, as he stumbled over a root. He never should’ve stepped foot on that damned ship. It had been several weeks since the attack, yet the smell of burning flesh still lingered in his mind. Sailors screaming in agony as their blood boiled. Some mercifully swept into the waters of the Norhar, others tortured as razor-sharp claws ripped muscle and tendon apart. And in the midst of it all? The party assigned to protect them had abandoned ship. Bastards.
Then again, maybe they’d had the right idea all along, since staying onboard the Pride had worked out so very well. In the midst of the chaos, Adran had been knocked unconscious, collapsing onto a floating portion of the Misty Gale’s hull. Many hours later, judging by the darkness, Adran awoke to the sound of crunching gravel, his unintentional raft grounded on the river’s western shore. To the south he could see fires, presumably the campsite of the other survivors. In the morning, he would follow the river south and reunite with them.
Originally, Adran had planned to walk south, and once in sight of the camp, swim across the Norhar. Luckily, his plans never came to fruition. Only a half day’s walk down the riverbank, Adran caught site of the mercenary party from the ship, travelling on a raft. Unfortunately, he also noticed that the same dragon that had attacked the ships was pursuing the raft. Taking cover in the trees of the Norhar Wood, Adran watched as the dragon followed them out of sight, not attacking them for some unknown reason. Continuing south once the threat had passed, Adran eventually spotted piles of crates on the opposite shore, but to his dismay, no survivors greeted him. Presumably, they had all perished. Afraid that the dragons he had seen would return to claim the goods they had sought so fervently, Adran chose to stick to the western shore.
After collecting whatever goods he could muster from the remnants of the convoy, Adran continued south, travelling along the treeline of the Norhar Wood but always in sight of the river. Expecting to find wildlife in the wood, Adran was surprised by the deathly silence that greeted him whenever he dared venture underneath the canopy. For weeks, Adran was forced to live off of grass and root, interspersed with rations that he ate of only when necessary to muster up energy. Eventually, Adran found himself at the gates of Midhar Post, starving and weary, but alive.
Tales of his adventure were met with skepticism. Dragons avoided the river, he was told, and there was no reason for them to steal simple iron. More likely he had hallucinated the events due to his concussion, a priest said, or maybe starvation had made him temporarily delusional. Adran knew what he had seen, however, and unfortunately, he knew that he would eventually have to make the trip again. His wife lived in Silner, as did his newborn child whom he had not yet met. They had gone up the river from Northolt less than a year earlier, and Adran had been forced to stay behind to conclude a work contract.
Unfortunately, his convoy had been the last one northbound for the season, and so he returned to Northolt on a southbound ship, working odd jobs there until he could return to his family. Eventually, an adventurer came into his regular tavern, offering free passage to Silner in exchange for labor on the road to Vaedjihal, and Adran readily accepted, since that had been his initial goal anyway.
Unfortunately, Adran did not know that the Umbral Blot had swept through the north, wiping out most of Silner, and killing his wife and child. Those still in Silner expressed sympathy for his loss, but could do nothing for him. Left with nothing, Adran travelled north to fulfill his contract working on the Elfroad. This turned out to be nearly as dangerous as his voyage aboard the Pride, as the road was regularly sieged by horrifying creatures from the wood, but the guards hired to protect the road held out, for a time. When gaps appeared in the guard from time to time, it was Adran who would step in, willing to risk his life, as it held little value to him. Over time, the attacks subsided and the road was completed. Left with nothing but painful memories of loss in Silner, Adran returned to Northolt and drank away his payment, hoping to forget all that had transpired in the last year. Still, he could not do it. He had grown up in Northolt, and had met his wife there, and though he drank to excess, he could not get their time together out of his mind.
Thus, when the same adventurer from before came into town, looking for someone to travel to Adulese in search of treasure, Adran volunteered. After all, what did he have left to lose, thanks to that darn Fancy Pride?