Feyjin

Feyjin Eldarhearth

Relatives	Father: Donwynn Eldarhart Mother: Evelyn Eldarhart Older Brother: Foremir Eldarhart
Languages	Common, Elvish, Halfling, Deep Speech
Affiliations	Protectors of the People
Aliases	Fey-Fey (Begrudgingly)
Marital Status	Single
Place of Birth	Gromstrahd
Date of Death	N/A
Place of Death	N/A
Species	Halfling
Gender	Female
Height	2 ft. 9 in.
Weight	43 lbs.
Eye Color	Bright Burnished-Gold

Feyjin Eldarhearth is a Halfling Grave Cleric from the small village of Gromstrahd - a place that generally has a small mix of your average humaniods. She tries her best to make sense of the world, and herself - and be a gentle face in times of misery and hurt.

Physical Appearance

Feyjin's most prominent feature is her strikingly bright Burnt Gold eyes and red hair (see image). At 2ft 9in, coming in at a little over 43lbs - she's a small one of her race, having been growth stunted. She wears her usual bone-white and ash-gray cleric's robes when on duty - but a pretty lilac tunic and tan trousers when out and about. She bears a small collection of scars on her wrists and forearms from her past temple's practices.

Personality

Cautious not from fear, but from experience. She is happy to lend a hand where needed - unless severely scorned, then which expect less than a warm welcome from her. She seems mild-tempered, thoughtful, and calculating when challenged with a problem. She is determined and quiet when put to the task. However, her patience does run out. Should you find yourself the one who snapped her tether - Good Luck.

History

Feyjin Exploring her Past Temple - Now Abandoned and in Ruin.

Feyjin was taken in by her local temple at the age of 2 - her parents not well-off enough to care for her and brother, opting to keep the eldest of the two. Since then she had grown up taking care of the ill and sending off the dead, coming to respect the cycle of life and death. After a new Council of Eldars arrived to replace the old beloved leaders of the temple - things quickly turned south and she was forced to flee at the age of 17, taking refuge within the wilderness. She since then has been working to find out what has become of her hometown, and keeping her past in the past - offering her services to aide those in avoiding the "forever box".

Languages

Common, Elvish, Halfling, Deep Speech

Powers and Abilities

Feyjin understands that she isn't the best at whacking blindly at beasts and monsters. Being that she's a small folk, she understood very early on that staying back is the safest way to aid her party. She's understood that as a spellcaster and healer, It's her responsibility to keep her party up and running, providing buffs to those in the front lines. However, she isn't afraid of getting her hands dirty, commanding those against her to kneel and mark their fate as dated evildoers - and keeping them down until the deed is done to wipe the world of their stains. She also has a Jello Cube as a Spiritual Weapon - it varies in color and flavor from time to time.

Attacks and Weapons 

As someone who normally avoids melee - she uses the power of her deity to fend off scoundrels. But when pressed between a rock and a hard place - the shovel she found on her hermitage serves her well. She'll mark them for death - and then send them to what she calls the "forever box".

Latest Achievements:

2 weeks after the battle with Tranquil the Terrible:

Drang the Bugbear had returned to the Protectors of the People's Headquarters grievously wounded and alone. Feyjin was the first to notice him collapse within the main hall - casting a spell to stabilize him. A few of the other members assisted in getting him to come to - at the expense of learning that two of their members that had left with Drang would not be coming home - lost to a rift that had no way back. He passes out after, his grief and exhaustion too much to bear. At that point, Feyjin claims him as her ward - the days pass and she tends to him, making sure he is comfortable until he is ready to wake up and ignoring the grief of losing two of her own to another deadly mission. The time she spends exposes some dark things occuring in his body that she had never expected; his body riddled with dark, tough tumors running rampant through his body, his organs and innards defying his announced age, and the screams and wails coming from the blackened tissue. His body was being twisted and eaten from the inside out... Feyjin wanted to let him rest before asking questions.

Despite her patience, the others wanted to know what had occurred during the mission - and she had forcefully brought him back to consciousness. The tale was grim and sad, and the stinging of loss was felt by all members. The group took time to come to terms of this, and in the midst - the wills of the fallen, Asger and Markoth, were found and executed along with their final rites. During this time, Feyjin gave Drang a choice: Either let her perform an extraction to slow the magic wrecking his body, or let is run it's course - his days numbered to maybe a few years to maybe a few months at worst. The idea of cutting someone apart again, it nearly drew her to tears and upending her stomach - the operation so, so similar to the implantations her old temple used to conduct... However, Drang approved of the procedure - and after some time, was made unconscious to begin.

It had taken some time, carefully prying and trimming the dark, over-grown flesh from his body - enough to fill several containers. She kept steady, remaining guided and aided by comrades as she did her best to prolong her friend's life. There were times that she had to keep herself from shaking, knowing that one small nick in the wrong place could easily end the life she was trying to hold onto. But she kept her breath steady, and after some time and lots of sweat and patience - she had succeeded. She knew there were some bits that she could not get - too far gone and buried into his essential organs that trying would do more harm than good. However, she had grown confident that his body and spirit would recover swifty - so long as he didn't go running into fights anytime soon.

In the quiet of her room, Feyjin had felt relief - not only because she had saved a friend, but she had also taken something terrible she had learned and turned it into something useful... something good. She took time to write her experience in her book, noting the things she did to change the operation, and perhaps a step forward in reversing the terrible acts that her temple had committed to the people of her hometown. If she could only find a way to convince herself to return to her hometown to find out...

Not Even a Week Later from the Events that Occurred Above:

Hugo Clairon had become extremely reckless - to the point of potentially having his status of Leader as the Claw suspended. Feyjin, suspecting possession had collected the other remaining members of the council to vote on subduing Hugo until he was evaluated and hopefully corrected. This, unfortunately, was not so much the case. Using her spells, she found something primordial had a hold on him - and had a magic circle placed to keep him contained. Hugo was then Silenced - with his permission, and tested. besides the small insight Feyjin and her associates discovered - there was little. It came to the point that the only a thorough look into his inner being - his soul, would provide further insight.

A Tail member,specifically the small kenku Quill, had the ability to pry open the soul to observe. However, one was needed to actually dive in. Feyjin volunteered, and was quite litereally sucked in - her body going comatose while her mind and being were projected inside Hugo's soul and trapped within. Unfortunately, it was at this time that Reylendor discovered that the Flame was involved and ordered the immediate halt of the operation. Double unfortunately - the operation was already too far gone. Feyjin had taken her time dealing with different aspects of Hugo contained within his soul- Meanwhile, in the material world,k a coup was activated by the other members of the Claw by order of Hugo - causing much distress and the death of Sizzle the kenku due to Drang's Pumpkin Cart being absconded with as a distraction. Several other PotP members were either knocked unconscious or held prisoner before countermeasures were able to be taken. In the end, in order to "reboot" Hugo - Drang was forced to break Hugo's neck. Thankfully - this released Feyjin from Hugo's soul and allowed her to successfully revive Hugo. Although Hugo is now different, and Drang now has the "key" tattoo'ed on his neck, things will hopefully even out and no new catastrophes occur. If anything, hopefully Feyjin can get a prescription for the constant headaches they cause.

Tales from Home:

WULVRIC FINDS HIS BRIDE (Retold by Feyjin recently during a starry night at her new home at the PotP):

Feyjin takes a steadying breath, remembering the story that she used to beg for every summer festival. Her fingers maneuvered the lights according to the story, the constellations a little different, but close enough.

"It was during the first years of the village. Our homeland was still very young, and my people had barely scraped through their first winters and had finished the spring planting for the community. Among them was a good-natured halfling by the name of Wulvric Marshwillow - the tallest halfling in the world. Now, he was a bit of a trouble-maker - and I could go on forever about the adventures he'd get into, but the best one is how he met his wife."

She changed the glittering of the stars again, showing images of the forest, "Wulvric was out in the nearby woods, collecting timbers for the baker's oven one late autumn. Among the woods, he spotted a fair group of large folk, covered in furs and carrying spears among all other sorts of brutish weapons. They looked beastly, their skin green or olive in color and teeth like a sabercat. And among those people, was the prettiest lady he ever saw. She was tough, scarred, but fairer in his eyes than even the most beautiful of elven queens. He went right up to them, being none the wiser, and demanded to know her name.

The female, of course, picked him up by the scruff of his neck and tossed him out of her way and went on her business, which at the time was a massive boar."

Feyjin smiled at the goofy images, continuing, "By whatever fate of luck or fortune, the orc party had been delayed in their search for their boar, spending more days then ever expected to be in the woods. But Wulvric would come to the woods every day, finding and asking the fair she-orc for her name, and get his ass tossed out. Eventually it got to the point that the she-orc had stopped tossing him away and letting him tail along, his eyes for tracks almost as good as any Orc tracker in her cadre. She grew fond of the halfling's antics, and finally gave her name after almost two weeks - Khal-Rina, She-Chieftain of the Red-Tusks. The cadre and Wulvric eventually came back to the village together, allowing the tribesman to restock to continue the hunt. Wulvric eventually was brought on as a native tracker, and spent much time with the cadre and their She-Chieftain.

They grew close, and after some time - it was Wulvric who caught the boar, nearly being gored in the process as he made it stampede itself into the sharpened bough of a sturdy tree. The She-Chieftain was surprised, but let him have it - saying it was his trophy, and she'd have to leave to try for another in a land far, far west. Wulvric was so distraught with the thought of her leaving to never return that he beseeched that she be his bride for none fairer maiden had such skill and prowess that made him chase so desperately to defeat something that terrified him all for just her name. He offered the boar as a engagement gift, admitting that he had become so thoroughly smitten for her that if she had told him to lie down and beg at that very moment, he would. But the fair Khal-Rina smiled, picked him up by the scruff of his neck, and carried him with her back home to be wed. It is by far the oddest pairing in our books. But the story is just the best." She chuckles, the stars twinkling in the image of a very, very short man and a tall muscled woman before the illusion falls.