| Relatives | Father: Donwynn Eldarhart
Mother: Evelyn Eldarhart Older Brother: Foremir Eldarhart |
|---|---|
| Languages | Common, Elvish, Halfling |
| 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.
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. 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, taking refuge within the wilderness. She since then has been working to find out what has become of her hometown - 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.
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".
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.
