Hey I'm Sianna I'm new to D&D but have really gotten into it due to the role playing aspects. I'm looking for a game that meets regularly and i love homebrew games because the imagination it takes to build something like that. Character Name. Kauslau’
Character Age. 90
Character Race. Wood
Elf
Character Class. Monk
Character Alignment. CG
Character Background.
Who am I? I’ve
been call many things the last 90 years. I have watched many humans come and go
some passing on to the next life though I am still a child in terms of the
Elves. They’ve called me orphan, and urchin, and Urchin queen, those are the
names I was called only in my first 25 years. One human child even called me
mother… I remember that child’s scream, I remember that woman’s laugh. In the
time when I wore a crown I thought I had done right by that child’s mother and
provided him with a good living. I failed to see the impatience of humans, or
their eagerness to be grown and to prove themselves. I knew my power was
limited to the shadows and watching where I stepped, the child did not know
this however and pulled a serpents tail. I woke in the night bludgeoned and
beaten, dragged to the river and stuffed in a bag. I could hear the screams of
the children; I could hear his screams as I was tossed in the water.
I was
spared that night from my fate, only because of the wrath of the gods who
wished for me to be their weapon. I awoke on the bank surrounded by the dead,
throats slit and heads bludgeoned. How cruel could the hearts of men be,
children, the lot of them had been children, a couple toddlers barely able to
walk. They had cleaned out the whole den, and it had mattered not to them the
age of those they took, of those they murdered. That woman, her laugh, it was
as if I was drawn to it, straight to her terrace where I watched her eat and
drink and laugh with guests. She even patted the head of a child. That was her
mistake, daring to be merry, when committing such acts against the Gods. My
rage burned then, burned for the first and the last time. Hands laid on my
shoulders I need not ask their names. Loki handed me a vial, Leira a dress, “our
rage is great, your service is demanded.” Dressed in Illusion I came when the woman
beckoned handing her wine. She waved me away sipping at the poisoned glass,
Midnight Tears… I know now why they call it that, tears of black shed at
midnight.
My story
for tonight ends there, but many other names I have been called since that
night. Counterfeiter, lover, noble, monk… Or perhaps none of those perhaps it
was all a lie as Cyric taught me. Perhaps my only name is deception…
