| 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 humanoids. 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.
Upon an arrangement with the Starlight Dragon, Xarzith-Dian, she has a brand looking like a dragon's maw on the skin above her heart. She also has about 20-or-so smaller brands on her back, most of them heavily scarred over when the oath that created them was broken. Her most recent brands include a shield - now scarred over. And an open hand - one of the few that still remain intact.
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.
After Hugo Clarion had enraged the Aspect of Xarzith-Dian taking residence in Feyjin's soul, Feyjin has taken to a more aloof and quick-tempered personality. She is quick to anger and prefers to be left alone. She does not care for herself in the case of exhaustion - and will work tirelessly to achieve her goal at the expense of her mental and physical health. Her warmth, both literally and figuratively, is gone while the anger of Xarzith-Dian lingers. She will still help when called, but do not expect the happy-go-lucky attitude of the past while her Dragon-Heart's rage lingers.
History
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. Her life at the temple was good for a good until about the age of 15. After a new Council of Eldars arrived to replace the old beloved leaders of the temple - things quickly turned south. She had discovered that her brother, Foremir, had volunteered for an experimental procedure under the new Eldars to fix his heart - and had died under their knives. It had awoken a sense of dread in her and not three months later, she was forced to flee at the age of 16, running from under the same knife of the Eldars - who decided that should be worshippers are made, not earned. Taking refuge within the wilderness, her body bleeding out and buffered against cold she had an unlikely encounter with Xarzith-Dian, the Frozen Dawn, starlight dragon of the Astral Court - a cold, possessive, unforgiving being made of Primordial Ice and Light. As she lay hiding, dying of her wounds, the dragon offered a deal: "For your life restored, I will bind myself to you. You will contain my heart to replace yours - your lifespan and power will reach bounds unseen for your kind. As payment - your oaths to others will be binding, as your words will become law when the time is right. You will be the key to restore the Astral Court, the Heiress to my power and seat when my time comes to pass on. You will see to the end of the Great Shepard, the Shadow-Stalker, Att-Anallo - who has stolen my home. Should you perish - so will I, and vice versa. My mark will house our agreement, seared in flesh and forever binding. You will be Dragon-Hearted, Heir and Salvation to the Astral Court - Commander of the Endless Stars."
Feyjin, unable to answer verbally, nodded as her last action before death - for dying for nothing was far worse than living with no purpose. The deal was struck, a brand of a Dragon's Maw forever seared to the skin over her heart. Though she does not remember this deal, there had always been a difference in her magic and demeanor since that day. She is a woman of few promises, the mistakes of trust unwisely given also seared on her skin as a reminder. She now looks to her home's future, and since then has been working to find out what has become of her hometown, keeping her past in the past, and aiding those who would have suffered an unjust fate.
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 and weakening the foe. 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 is an efficient battle medic, and will have you up and back on the field in mere moments.
Her favorite way of putting down evil is her bells - One good toll is enough to be a sturdy warning - another, and your time is up. This also goes for any allies that push her too far. They're an effective boundary-setter.
She also has a Mini Murder-Jello Cube as a Spiritual Weapon - it varies in color and flavor from time to time based on her tastes. His name is Cuebert - He's generally Purple.
Attacks and Weapons
As someone who normally avoids melee - she uses the power of her faith 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".
Weapons:
Shovel (reflavored Mace), Hatchet, Shield
Spells on a Normal Day (Unless Otherwise Specified):
At-Will: Guidance, Light, Primal Savagery, Sacred Flame, Spare the Dying, Toll the Dead
1st Level: Bane, Command, Cure Wounds, False Life, Guiding Bolt, Healing Word, and Inflict Wounds
2nd Level: (See lvl 1 Spells), Gentle Repose, Ray of Enfeeblement, Silence, Spiritual Weapon (Cuebert the Murder-Jello)
3rd Level: (See lvl 1 & 2 Spells), Remove Curse, Revivify, Spirit Guardians, Vampiric Touch
Favorite Attacks:
Toll the Dead, Guiding Bolt, Inflict Wounds, Cuebert the Murder-Jello, and occasional Smacking with Shovel
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.
A Week After the Events Concerning Hugo:
Feyjin had discovered that the Shepherds of the Lost, the new Eldars of her past Temple, were a covert branch of the Servants of Att-Anallo thanks to Reylendor's assistance and a brutal truth spoken by Att-Anallo through him. Scared of retaliation but filled with determination they put their heads together to compare notes and various rituals they have taken from their former places of worship. With three days of religiously pouring over notes and manuscripts, recalling personal accounts and experimentation, Feyjin and the Mouth along with other members of the Tail has created a ritual to silence Att-Anallo inside Reylendor's mind. She had encountered Hugo 2.0 as she was working, and agreed that Hugo would be permitted to test a theory of his under her careful watch should she be able to convinvce Reylendor to go through with the tests. Reylendor was hesitant in the beginning - fearing that things could go terribly, but Feyjin persuaded him that if it did go right - he would finally have peace of mind.
On the day of the experiment, two members of the Mouth - Ehlori and Aedion, volunteered to hold up a Circle of Protection to let Feyjin work inside while keeping the others safe. Amira the Goliath and Watcher the Rabbit kept an eye on things. Once Reylendor and Feyjin entered the circle - Feyjin began reciting the Prayer of Communication, her body contorting as she brought Att-Anallo forth from Reylendor. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her body sweat and contorted profusely as Att-Anallo was brought into sight within its vessel - looking amused. When Feyjin finished, she had to warn Hugo to stay out of the Circle - neither of them knew what the entity was capable of in this state. The entity crooned in Deep Speech, stating its vessel feared destruction. Hugo then steps forward to the edge of the circle, donning his crow mask and almost becoming foreign to Feyjin - his demeanor giving the essence of cruelty and malice incarnate. In that moment Feyjin realized that she was now between two powerhouses - each with the ability to destroy this room and everyone in it.
This is a transcript of the recording of the encounter recovered from Doxx the Automaton, Messenger of the Mouth:
Hugo, after donning his crow mask, “Star Eater, Throne of Shadow and Flame, Angel of the Astral Void I address thy as present and sound of mind as you stand in your vessel.”
Att-Annalo tilts it’s head, it’s face a mask of pure neutrality. It speaks in a voice low enough to rumble the room, something sinister lurking beneath the words uttered in Deep Speech. “You call me here, yet I think you have little idea for. This vessel fears destruction, but I have no desire for such trivial things.” It looks at Hugo and speaks in common in a tone that almost perfectly mimics Reylendor, “Silent and I have an accord. You should only fear me as much as you fear them.”
Hugo chuckles heartlessly, causing Feyjin to shudder. “You think I should be afraid. I think you forget where you stand and who you stand against. Fear me for I am desolation of all.”
The temperature in the room increases drastically, though is safe for humanoid companions.
The vessel of Att-Anallo's eyes narrow at the threat.
Hugo continues, ”Fear you? You're a rat scurrying through the gutters in search of the darkest shadows so you may feast on scraps that others leave behind. Not something to be feared, not even something to be scarfed of. You are something to be disgusted by as you crush it beneath your boot.”
Rather than appearing offended, the entity wearing Reylendor smiles. “I’m glad you understand that I am not to be feared. Perhaps we can reach, well, something of an understanding then." The smile falters into disgust, "Though, I doubt it.”
Hugo prys further, pushing his luck in getting a reaction out of the Elder God,”You play the part of the tyrant, but I know who you are. You are a coward. Your zealots took their blade and cut you off your whole to put in this pathetic vessel. I know why you cower behind your mask and only arise when you are pulled out. They messed up bad. Your weaker then your vessel. You realized that upon taking form in flesh that you could not survive, thrive in the world of material. If you were to raise your head above the crowd you would find it roll in a world that does not care for you. You hide behind the form of a boy because you are afraid. I call you pathetic.” Hugo reaches into his coat and removes a large flask of a dark liquid before gently laying it on the ground to spill into the circle without breaking any of the runes or sigils. “I bet you are curious what this is?”
Feyjin notices the liquid, a blind flash of panic in her face.
Att-Annalo appears to have grown bored, uninterested in the Warlock. “No, I don’t particularly care.”
Feyjin takes this time to prepare herself, this heat seemingly familiar to her. She stills herself as the two powerhouses look to one another, trying to muster up courage despite being the smallest and weakest one here. "May I remind you that I summoned you? You two can continue your children's quarrel when I finish with what I came for. You wanted me to help your vessel - so here I am, doing what you asked. Like a good little Servant that you want me to be."
Hugo chuckles, his voice hollow, ”Well you should. They call it Folgrim’s Fire. A very volatile substance. Just a little spark and you will find you vessel naught but ash. And you need your vessel. Without it you are a feather on the wind without body, without will. You need Reylendor and your f*cked if you lose him. That’s why we need to make a deal. You need him more than any of us need you. We will permit your continued existence, but only if you corporate with us. You will cease servicing as a parasite and serve as a symbiotic passenger to your host. I broke the weak and burned the strong, I shattered the foundations of the PotP. My name is Hugo Clarion and I will burn the world, fear me or be sundered.” Hugo's tone turns sharp.”There is no use in fighting back. We all burn in the end.”
There is an increased magical pressure coming from the Vessel's body, Structural integrity of the Protection Circle is rapidly degrading.
Suddenly, the effects of the circle appear to grow dull. Att-Annalo tilts its head again. “Do you have ears, Hugo Clarion? I am no parasite. When I take control, I service my own means, which have naught to do with the destruction of anything. I have no interest in wanton death. You have called me here to ask that I continue as I am?”
Feyjin watched as Ehlori collapses, eyes widen as Aedion goes down next - unable to keep up the pressure of the spell against this entity's sheer presence. She looks to Hugo, eyes in terror. She fucked up. Shit was hitting the fan.
Hugo ignores Feyjin's expression. ”You will quiet your indecent whispering and come to find a consensus with Reylendor where you both can coexists. If you agree to this, maybe I will let you go. And remember-” Hugo conjures a bit of flame in his palm, the light flickering on the spilt Fulgrim's Fire. “-where you stand.”
Hugo looks to Feyjin,”Its time you take a time out. Feyjin now!”
Without warning, Att-Annalo lets go and Reylendor comes back to the surface, his eyes turning their normal green again. He stumbles forward, tripping out of the circle and landing on his knees with a painful crunch.
”No your not allowed to leave yet! “ Hugo presents a symbol of Att-Annallo to keep the being present. “Feyjin we are running out of time!”
Feyjin quickly presses her hand to Reylendor's chest - eyes filled with anger as now the goliath on guard falls to the ground from the other-worldly pressure. The ritual flares up once more, "You will stop. You will stop this immediately and obey me - Grand Shepherd. You will not go to hide back in the shadows without my permission!"
In Primordial Hugo begins to recite a variation of the prayer which is to serve to pull forth and bind the entity, aiding Feyjin's command. It takes a moment for the spells to settle, the eyes of Reylendor and Att-Anallo flickering as they fight for control. But eventually, it is successful in holding the Elder God's entity within the vessel. Hugo mutters in Primordial “As you are bound to this vessel you are at our command - otherwise your sanctuary of life shall serve as a prison of flesh. To flee is to submit. Bow and you shall live to walk the plane once again in the vessel that is Reylendor.”
Reylendor’s eyes fade again as Att-Annalo takes control once more. “You call again? I believed we were done.”
Hugo, failing against the strain of Att-Anallo's presence, mutters to the halfling. “ Its all up to you Feyjin.” Hugo then removes the mask, his face covered in sweat, before he passes out.
Att-Annalo stares at Hugo’s fallen body with a rather unimpressed expression. It sighs in a way that mimics Reylendor. “Such… dramatics? And for what? To threaten to burn down anything and everything in the way of his own ambition. How very… un-amusing.” It looks to Feyjin. “Now, perhaps we can finally speak. That is what you want, is it not?”
Feyjin scowls, "I need answers, and one last favor from the being that turned my home to a desolate wasteland - If you have the patience to deal with a former worshipper that is."
Feyjin's nose starts to bleed from the constant exposure of Att-Anallo's presence.
”I find myself rather tired of many who claim to be my worshippers. Perhaps you possess greater insight than others? So…” Att-Annalo shifts. Reylendor’s body twists and bends, bones and muscles collapsing in on themselves. His form distorts and shrivers into a husk before expanding and taking on new, shorter limbs. He looks almost identical to Feyjin’s deceased older brother: if Feyjin’s brother had eyes with pupils that split and reformed every other second. “…What do you wish to ask of me?” His voice is distorted, like multiple people speaking at once. One voice among the many, a faint dying sound, is just like her brother’s.
All Feyjin can do is watch as she sees her brother's body before her, puppeted by the very thing that he sacrificed himself for. She remembered watching his body cease breathing, his bright blood dripping from the altar to the floor. She stood by him when he took his last breath - telling her that he couldn't wait to be healthy and have her come back home to her real family. He had been the little piece of sunshine that visited when the eldars started killing off dissenters and protesters within the temple. He was the awakening to her eyes to what the temple really was. The closest thing she had to real flesh-and-blood family. Without flinching, Feyjin's fists clench so hard they draw blood, it dripping to the floor. Whatever calm resolve she had left in her small body left. Her body goes slack standing, slowly looking up to the eyes of her beloved brother's corpse in nothing but a cold fury that came from where light and warmth and color fear to tread. "You... you dare disgrace his image and voice in front of me. You told the eldars the Ascension would heal those who were ill. You said as long as they did the ritual his heart would be fixed - that he would grow up to be a healthy man. I. WATCHED. HIM. DIE. ON. THAT. F*CKING. ALTAR."
She walks up to her brother's body, unmarred by the knives of her Eldars, clean of blood and gore - a lover's closeness as she weaves her words into the command spell.
Feyjin then feels a hand weakly grab her boot, Hugo's hand attached to it. “Don’t do it, resist. Finish the ritual,” he mutters in a raspy voice. ”I believe in you………”
The halfling takes a moment to think as she holds the spell - and then binds her words to the Weave. "So you're going to tell me how to tear that altar apart - sever it's connection to you. And then you're going to tell me what you want as payment for my brother's freedom of you."
Apparently having had his fill of just watching, Watcher the rabbit leaps off of Feyjin’s desk. He staggers under Att-Annalo’s presence, but keeps going—and hops onto Feyjin’s shoulder. It whispers to Feyjin, and though it’s words are in Sylvan, they can somehow be understood. “Light that harbors the dark. Fated twining of souls. Reach against the strain. To know inner sorrow Is to triumph in life.”
The heady scent of caramelized carrots fills the room, though the only creature affected by it… is Att-Annalo. It loses concentration over its transformation and morphs back into Reylendor. Reylendor’s eyes flicker between dull and vibrant and Att-Annalo stumbles back, stepping back into the circle and trying to keep its will from being crushed under the smell of carrots. Watcher stands as tall as a rabbit can on Feyjin’s shoulder. It speaks to Feyjin again, in a Sylvan that is somehow comprehensible. “Reylendor told me you had the strength of a Druid’s heart, and I think it so. It’s heart, however, is in pieces.” Watcher calls out, “Reylendor! It’s time for you to wake up and help!” At that moment, Reylendor’s eyes shift to their normal shade for just a moment so he can nod at Feyjin with fierce determination.
Feyjin takes this opportunity to finish what she came for, deciding with a heavy heart that answers can wait. "Has been for years. Still is." She moves quickly, finishing the final ritual. "I find that a heart shatters like glass when it's light is ripped away." The ritual forces Feyjin to her knees, ears and nose bleeding from the sheer force and adamantine-will that she puts behind her magic, shaking the entire PotP in a shockwave. There are tears streaming down her face, knowing that she will have to go unknowing of her brother's status within the collective of Att-Anallo, potentially never being able to ever free her brother from it's clutches. Her eyes turn to a amber-gold, hair floating on a phantom wind. "You will answer to me one day, Slaughterer of the Lost. I will tear you from your throne and show you what happens to fools who take from those who are dragon-hearted. And if you ever take from me again, Att-Anallo, I will shred worlds apart to hunt you down and devour you whole. For though I am a mortal scorned, I will call upon a Frozen Dawn to cast the deepest shadows into the cleansing light of time primordial. You have been warned, Shadow-Stalker - for you are not the only one who is striving to walk into this plane." She then completes the final prayer, the deepest cold, wind, and light of a thousand frozen stars flooding the room as she seals him away - collapsing on the ground as the room shrouds in darkness.
Att-Annalo crumples to the ground. Reylendor’s body remains unmoving for several moments. Watcher bounds over and thumps on Reylendor’s stomach, making him jolt awake with a cough. He looks around the room, unsure of anything that’s happened, when it all abruptly comes flowing back to him. Every moment of the ritual plays out in his mind, making him clutch his head. Try as though he might, he can’t tune any of it out. Att-Annalo’s voice isn’t lurking in the background whispering anymore. Instead of a sinister chorus of whispers, he hears his own voice echoing inside his head… and what it says is both deeply troubling and oddly relieving. The fear of what lurks inside his skull steadily drains, being replaced by calm sense of knowing. He knows that his own will hasn’t triumphed over this piece of Att-Annalo’s. No. Instead… they’ve become one. As Att-Annalo did earlier, Reylendor stands, dusts himself off, and casts Spare the Dying on all the unconscious, one by one. A faintly purple, yet radiant light descends on the bodies of Feyjin, Hugo, and the other Mouth members. Watcher looks between Reylendor and Feyjin, and though he has the face of a rabbit, he appears faintly proud.
While this occurs, Hugo is unconscious on the floor
Feyjin lays on the ground, thankfully breathing - but thoroughly f*cked up. Her body is limp, her face is covered in her own blood, and she is completely empty of magic - no better than the local farmer.
Hugo shoots awake. "Holy crap, I didn't realize how much that would take out of me. How did he do that shit all day!" He reads the room, seeing several people getting up from the ground. "Was, uh, was it successful?"
Feyjin is still, tears streaming from her face as she lays there, numb. Her ears are ringing, still coming to terms with all that's happened.
Hugo tries again, "I didn't hear a no."
Reylendor stands at a distance. Concern is written all over his face, but he is unsure if approaching Feyjin is best at the moment. Instead, he concentrates and puts down a Beacon of Hope: a pillar of crackling golden energy surrounds him, and then he begins to cast Prayer of Healing, murmuring words in Druidic. The light from the pillar slowly drifts out to form an aura around Hugo, Feyjin, and the other Mouth members.
"For anyone's sanity, know I lied about the Folgrim's Fire. Its just substance that looks like it. But we probably shouldn't be laying in this though either, because you don't want to know where i sourced this shit from. Well actually, I just gave it away."
Feyjin silently pulls herself from the ground, hollow and thoroughly empty. "He has my brother."
Everyone can see her resolve break, her knees buckling as they see pain in every feature of her face - one that was desperate enough to lose everything to get something back. She is holding back 12 years of grief and deep sorrow.
No longer caring as soon as Prayer of Healing is cast, Reylendor runs over to Feyjin and throws his arms around her in what he hopes is a comforting, or at least grounding hug. “You were willing to sacrifice everything. That willpower was what stopped it—what saved me. Thank you, Feyjin.” Reylendor’s voice cracks and he tears up. “Thank you.” Watcher bounds onto Feyjin’s shoulder again and rubs his cheek against her face.
Feyjin can barely register the present, she lets out a shuddering breath trying to avoid shattering into pieces. "Thank the gods you are okay. Never scare me like that again. I can't lose another part of my family - I won't allow it." She pulls Reylendor close, gripping them in a crushing hug with every fiber she can muster. "The next time I encounter that entity hurting you - I will shatter realities to protect you. Never again will I force you to endure this. Never again - I swear it." In this moment, a flash of light and freezing heat mar Reylendor's and Feyjin's skin - the mark of a bright shield searing itself onto your forearm and Feyjin's back.
Hugo while still laying facedown on the ground lifts his hand to reveal the brand on his palm - it glowing for a split moment.
Reylendor squeezes Feyjin back. “We’ll destroy that thing together. We’ll tear it to pieces for everything it’s done. I swear, I’ll stop at nothing to help you avenge the fallen—I’ve been keeping my head in the dirt for too, long. Just, don’t try to sacrifice yourself again. Please.” Reylendor pulls back to look at her, tears streaming down his face. “I would go through that a million times over it it meant not losing anyone.”
Feyjin drags Hugo into the bone-crushing hug. "Thank Hugo - had he not given me time... You could have been stuck like that. It... It broke though my circle with sheer force. I would've had no choice but to thrust everything I had into keeping you here."
Hugo looked sheepish at the remark, "I uh, told you it would all be ok. I think we proved Hugo Alpha's theory right though. Damn, pretending to bee like him takes a lot out of you, ya know?"
Feyjin lets out a laugh that is free, the happiest you have ever heard her. "Alright - drinks on me. We've just been through hell - let's never do that again."
Recent Events:
The Anger of Xanzith-Dian:
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.
