Nestled at the edge of the lonely moor the village of Twiddledale is known for nothing. It was rarely even a blot on a map and the only reason anyone knows it exists at all is that it is a good place to rest and refill water supplies heading into or out of the desert. The town itself is devoted to no particular god, and lacks even a chapel, but many of the inhabitants pay respect to the gods of nature from Malar to Yondalla and everyone in-between. Living so close to the land they feel obliged. Most of the inhabitants, humans and the occasional elf or half-elf, work as clay gatherers, woodsmen, or farmers living off the land and trading with passing merchants for what they need. Very few visitors stay in the town and very few locals ever leave. Houses in the village are simple affairs, low and formed of clay bricks reinforced with wood. They are warm in winter and cool in summer and while a Waterhavian noble might scorn the simple dwellings for those living in town they are quite comfortable. The town is surrounded by a reinforced wall of clay bricks, 15 ft high and two heavy gates of wood and iron can be drawn shut across the entrance. This is done regularly at dark every day, if you are outside at night you are shut out of the town.

Being so close to the edge of the lonely moors wild animals and worse, moor trolls, often roam close to the town at night. The walls and gates keep these creatures out. The first thing the towns children have been taught to keep inside the walls at night; nights are the moors are filled with the dangers of cold and creature. The second thing is that when the towns bell, a great bronze bell in the center of town, is rung all children are to hide immediately taking nothing with them. All grown men and women, able to wield any sort of weapon be it bow, blacksmith hammer, or pitchfork, are to gather in the town center to receive orders. Others are to barricade themselves inside their houses. Danger is afoot. Usually its nothing but occasionally a particularly nasty moor troll will try and get into the town.

This structure has served the town well and they live comfortably off the land; trading water from their well and raw clays gathered from the moors to passing merchant caravans in exchange for dried goods, clothing, and other necessities. The town has a leader, a council of elders, and a head of the local militia (the militia comprises a motley assortment of farmers and woodcutters with an occasional hunter thrown in) and that is all in the way of government.

Twiddldale houses are cottage style houses formed of kiln fired clay bricks and thatched with rushes and twigs and clays for the moors. They are warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Glass is rare but most of the house have windows which they close with wood shutters. In addition most of the cottages have kitchen gardens scattered around the edge of the house and small add on sections to shelter the families goats and chickens and if the family is lucky and wealthy a pony or horse during the night and the cold winters. Such add-ons are generally directly connected to the main house so that the heat of the building in the winter can keep the animals warm.

Life has continued in Twiddledale as it has without interruption. Routine is what keeps the village running so smoothly. But an astute observer might notice that within the past week the adults of the village are a bit more talkative. Often they can be seen talking in low voices and many have increased their gifts to the gods of nature. They do not share the reasons behind this with children however. The only thing of note to have happened in the village recently is that a trio of traveling strangers berthed overnight before heading down the Black Road towards Baulder’s Gate. This was only unusual in that no travelers ever stayed in town; not with the lonely moor so close. They tended to purchase food and water and move on. Of course none of the children had actually seen the strangers but the rumor mill had it that they were very odd looking. Darkly tanned skin, black hair and eyes and it was rumored that there was even a woman among them but she dressed and acted like a man.

Even so things continued as normal until one day the alarm bells rang. None of the children knew why, they simply hid. When they ventured out from hiding everyone in the village was gone. Vanished without signs of either preparation to leave, battle, or kidnapping. They simply were gone. Three of the villagers, the towns leaders and protectors, were found dead, pinned to a wall with strange writing above them. A few of the towns children managed to survive, hidden so well that whatever happened to the village passed them by. It is these children who buried the dead and closed the heavy gates leaving behind them only an empty shell of a village.

Aheric—Town leader—dead. Human. Born and raised in Twiddledale. Knows the land and the people better than most. Former woodsman till he took up duties as leader. His duties now keep him busy but many of the townsfolk help him out with day to day things.
Old Autry/Old Hag—Herbalist—dead. Autry (Autumn is her real name) moved to the village about 20 years ago, no one knows her history though they guess her to be around 60 years of age. She has a great skill in herbalism and calls herself a “hedge witch”. She has tended the village’s ills and hurts and made herself quite useful. Of course many of the children are afraid of her; she keeps to herself for the most part, wanders the woods and moors alone, and always smells funny…like medicine. Occasionally she sells mild “charms” she crafts…things like little charms to protect a house from fire, promote harmony, health, etc.
Aeden Mirrets—traveling minstrel—vanished. He is was residing in the village for a time. He teaches and performs in exchange for room, board, and the occasional coin that the villagers can spare. He’s liked well enough, but few know him.
Serath Trannyth—Captain of the militia—vanished. A former mercenary he settled in Twiddledale choosing it in no small part as it was so removed from things. It provided more safety and stability to raise a child in. In addition to setting a regular militia in place and rotating duty rosters he has also been teaching some of the younger men hunting which has proved useful both in helping keep the village supplied with meat through the winter months as well as keeping some of the moor nasties away from the village. Well respected in the village he has actually expended his own money to be sure that the militia has quality weapons available.
Dorn—Druid—dead. The only real spiritual guide for the area Dorn serves the lands of Twiddledale and its surroundings. Though most druids travel with some regularity Dorn has stayed fairly close to his “home base” in Twiddledale of recent to give his adopted charge, a young boy he rescued, some stability to his life.

Llorkh is a town of a reasonable size for a river town. Around 100 townsfolk (including women and children) live in and around the town, most making their living off the river in some way. Fishers, ferry folk, trappers, and traders form the bulk of the Llorkh’s economics. There are other business such as an inn, hostelry, mercantile, smithy, etc however none are very extensive or well stocked. There is nothing one might call an upper class in Llorkh as most people live directly off the land and are laborers. The closest example of ‘wealth’ can be found in the merchants who own the towns inn and mercantile. While it is not much, they have the coin to purchase goods and services and not simply trade for what they need to live.

Llorkh is a traditional fishing village, buildings made of stone and thatched roofs and pervading over the whole thing is the smell of fish from the smokehouses and drying sheds. Homes are small and often close together. Gardens are shared, common spaces or in the surrounding fields though most of their foods come directly from the river itself.

Llorkh is a very typical town with very typical people. Nothing exciting ever happens despite the visitors that drift through on a regular basis. The town just isn’t that interesting or have enough resources to warrant outside interest. Most believe it is led by a council of elders. That was what most believed, in truth it was the owner of the inn and the owner of the mercantile, the two wealthiest in the town, who ran the show. Or more correctly their money ran the show. They were not on the council but whatever they suggested, wanted, requested was almost always done. Thus when three dark skinned and dark haired strangers entered the village, two men and a woman, it was the advice of the innkeeper and store owners the council sought. They were advised to listen, to learn what they could of the strangers. Most likely because the strangers spent real gold willingly and without complaint at the inn and the stores in town. The only member of the town who was against the three strangers was the local priest, a priest of Lathander but one who served all the needs of the people without insistence upon working only for his own faith. It was he that wrote a letter to an old friend, a paladin of Waterdeep, expressing his concerns. The paladin came, but not in time, the town of Llorkh was abandoned. Or rather the town of Llorkh had the same thing happen to it that happened to Twiddledale. All were gone, vanished, but everything was left behind just as if they had stepped away for a moment. Only the animals remained, and they were oddly silent and trapped in their pens were near starving by the time the Paladin and his young squire arrived. Unlike Twiddledale however the town of Llorkh had no bodies left behind.

There are none as of yet named however the town elders, the local priest of Lathander, the captain of the guard, the owner of the inn, and the owner of the mercantile play key roles. Others may be added if needed.

Loudwater is a large town, one of the largest along the road. As such it has a bustling economy and a wide range of laborers, merchants, and tradesmen. It has a mercenary outpost, a building purchased and maintained by a semi-local mercenary company where one can stop and hire mercenaries for whatever purpose…usually as guards for caravans heading into the desert. It also has a bonafide church complete with a proper priest and three underpriests. All in all Loudwater could be considered a proper city. It even has a seedy “underbelly”—gangs of street rats as well as a small thieves guild that is run efficiently and orderly. Here one can find most trades and apprentices, the only thing that the town is short on is wizardly magic. Most wizards choose to reside closer to the city of splendors or one of the other magic centers in the land. These outlying towns and cities have nothing to offer anyone of great knowledge or wealth, but for the average middle class citizen of the land they are as good a place to settle and make a life as any. Resources are good, income potential is high, and all in all most can make a good life here.

Loudwater is built around the river with some parts of the city being directly on the river. There are many buildings, often two story and crafted of wood or stone with proper shingle or wood roofs. Wide dirt streets mark the main thoroughfares in the city but the river is also a mode of transportation with most of the people who live directly on the river having their own small docks and skiffs.

unknown

Garrick & Matilda—Owners of the Inn of the Dancing Orc Maidens—These two are a rather dour couple that own one of the larger Inns in town. Many find the name odd enough they have to walk in and see if there are any dancing orc maidens—there aren’t but once inside they usually stay for a pint or a bite to eat. Neither of the owners have any spectacular skill except at bargaining and miserliness. As such their Inn turns a good profit and they pay their help little to nothing to accomplish this. Wherever they can they take in poor abandoned orphans…free labor and they can feed them off scraps and almost nothing. They are not gentle with their help, nor are they kind or generous. They have a high turnover rate in workers but there are always more street rats when others run away or die from the harsh labor.
Quick—The local thief lord. At least that’s what he calls himself. He’s a 16 year old thug who leads the gang of street rats through a mixture of promises and bullying. He despises non-humans and teaches his gang the same manners. Non-humans are trash to be used and discarded when needed.

The Raevyn’s Rest is almost a village in and of itself. It is comprised of a two story main building which houses the kitchens, larder, eatery/drinkery, and private rooms on the second story . The second story is accessible by an outside stairway and not through the first floor, this is to give the exclusive guests who can pay for individual rooms the privacy they pay for. In addition to the main building there are several other outbuildings which house the staff, 30 or so mostly single men and women though there are a few children and families. They also have three long houses of common rooms, areas with shared fireplaces and privies and small cots in walled cubicles. These beds are cheaper though they are still quite comfortable the cubicles are barely big enough to contain a travel bag and a bed, certainly nothing further. There are also two wells, stables, barns, coops, and a series of well established gardens. There is a large cleared camp area, usually used to hold the wagons and guards of whatever caravan happens to be passing through, otherwise it is simply a well cleared area of dirt ringed by a low rock wall. The Inn is known for quite a distance as the place to stop when traveling; the food is good, the ales and meads are better, and the beds are clean and comfortable. It can hold up to 100 guests at a time, not counting the camping areas, and contains a staff of around 30 very loyal staff. The owner of the Inn, Raevyn, is known to pay her staff well, provide food and clothing, and in general run a very excellent establishment which is well worth her high prices. She is also known to occasionally, though not always, have supplies in stock that are invaluable for traveling in the desert and she charges a premium for these items…dehydrated water is the most popular item, quith pa like rations, portable fires, and magical flagons that refill with ale once a day come in a close second. She is also known to occasionally get in unique magical miscellaneous items which are often invaluable for traveling in the desert. Caravan guards favor stopping and browsing her wares, often saving their earnings to purchase some of Raevyn’s unique items for sale. Raevyn herself is a very driven, very organized woman who likely was an adventurer once but retired and purchased a run down mining camp to turn it into the exceptional Inn which generates more income than her adventuring ever did.

With the exception of the main building which is a traditional stone building built to withstand even the most brutal of winters winds, the Inn buildings are long house styled buildings, with sloping roofs and stone construction. Several of these long buildings form the Inn, each built on the same pattern but serving different purposes.

Raevyn’s Rest has been intentionally abandoned. All the most valuable furnishings, foodstuffs, linins, and other things have been taken away when the Inn’s owner and her staff abandoned it. Even the animals, and there was a vast farm of animals that supplied the Inn, have been taken. The basics and cheapest foods and the gardens remain and the buildings are still in good repair regardless of the effects of the weather and nature—they were solidly built and well maintained when in use and that has meant that they have declined very slowly in the absence of their owner. The only clue as to what happened was a letter left behind in the fire grate suggesting that a priest in Llorkh warned the owner, Raevyn, of incoming trouble. It seems plain that she evacuated herself, her staff, and her belongings on receiving this news.

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Race:
Class: (Level 0)

What you want to be when you grow up? (What do you aspire to be, or to do, in the future when your apprenticeships and training are complete?)

Who is your mentor? (name, relationship, craft: Someone must have raised you? Taught you a trade? Your skills? The only ones who might not have had a mentor are those petty thieves and urchins who were raised on the street.)

Brief Biography: (Tell us where you came from and how you were raised.)

What person(s) of interest do you know where you are from? Who all do you have a relationship with?:

Equipment: (As a child, you don’t have much aside from a few tools of your trade and perhaps some knickknacks that have special sentimental value.)

Class Skills: (What skills do you possess? Can you play an instrument? Pick a lock? Remain hidden in the shadows? Can you swing a sword? Draw a bow? Perhaps you’re even studying the magical or divine arts and know a few basic cantrips that you can list? Most of the skills your mentor taught you should be listed and described here. Please limit yourself to no more than 4 skills [NOTE: each cantrip/spell counts as one skill])

Life Skills: (What special things have you learned just growing up in general? In your day-to-day life? Can you read? What about write? Has your training as a blacksmith taught you how to repair metal equipment? Has farming taught you how to tend a garden or animals? Have you spent your life running from bullies so you’ve gotten very good at hiding? Maybe your mind is sharp and you can instantly recall names and faces after a single meeting? Your life and profession skills should be listed here. Please limit yourself to no more than 3 points of knowledge.

Name: Brisa Potter
Age: 14
Gender: female
Race: human
Class: mage (Level 0)

Appearance: Brisa is dexterous girl, slim actually fairly short. The bane of her existence is her height; others tend to make fun of her for it. Her hair is dark brown and full of natural ringlets. She keeps it cut short to just above her shoulders, much to her mother’s dismay. She rarely bothers with it, just shoves a headband on to keep it out of her face. It’s constant disarray gives her a wild look. Her hair could be pretty, but she doesn’t go in for pretty. She refuses to wear the frocks her mother made for her, preferring instead to wear her brother’s castoff tunics and trews. The tomboyish attitude and dress confound her parents but they don’t bother Autry at all. Autry allows her to wear whatever is comfortable and won’t be distracting and approves of the boyish dress as it makes her work in the garden and cellar easier.

What you want to be when you grow up?
Brisa is too unfocused to figure out what she really wants to be. All she knows is that she, under no circumstance, wants to be a potter. And she doesn’t want to be poor. And she doesn’t want to be married. She does like working with her teacher and is a quick study…she often finds herself wondering if she could make good money selling potions or charms.

Who is your mentor?
Old Autry. Old Autry saw Brisa when the girl was 9 and had come with her mother to purchase a tea for a cough. Her keen eyes saw Brisa’s unhappiness and general listlessness and offered to teach the girl at her house. Brisa begged and begged her mother to let her go learn from Autry and soon a formal apprenticeship was established.

Brief Biography: Brisa was born and raised in the village. Her parents were born and raised here too. They have never traveled and have no desire to do. They are completely at a loss as to why Brisa does. But Brisa is bored in the town. She has a quick mind and she gets bored quickly; and she hates clay and pottery. She knows she is destined to be stuck in this little village as a potter or a farmers wife. Each option is equally repulsive to her. Thus when Autry offered to teach her herbalism she jumped at the chance. She didn’t realize what Autry was truly offering; to teach her magic. Autry had seen Brisa’s magical talents, recognized her intelligence immediately. She knew, however, that Brisa’s parents would never approve so offered instead to teach the girl herbalism. She made Brisa promise not to tell. Autry began Brisa’s magical studies in secret, and Brisa learned Autry’s craft if not quickly then at least diligently. Every time Brisa wanted to quit she remembered two things…the first was that Autry let her dress and act like herself. The second was that magic would be away out of the town and the life she feared awaited her.

What person(s) of interest do you know in the village? Who all do you have a relationship with?: Brisa is very close with her teacher, Autry. Autry gave her an escape; her mother was threatening to turn her into a farm wife or a clay potter. Or both. She loves her parents deeply but under that is a resentment. A resentment that her parents never really understood her.

Equipment:A small journal of pressed plants and sketches detailing the plant life around the village. A bundle of lavender & mint leaves. Her first spellbook; crafted entirely by her under Autry’s tutelage.

Class Skills:
Cantrip: Adrenaline--This cantrip enables the caster to double his/her movement rate for 1 round. No extra attacks are possible with this cantrip; solely movement.
Cantrip: Color--With this cantrip the caster can alter the color of any surface, if used on ones body then separate castings are required for hair skin eyes if used on clothes then it can enchant one piece of clothing at a time. This is a permanent cantrip.
Cantrip: Firefinger--When cast, the firefinger cantrip causes flame to spurt several inches from the wizard's outstretched finger. Combustibles will be ignited by the flame if they are dry. The material component is pitch, which must be rubbed on the finger prior to casting.
Spellcraft--

Villager Skills:
Reading--Brisa can read common easily.
Writing--Brisa can write common easily.
pottery--Brisa hates the job but she is a decently skilled potter able to form and shape common clay items (bowls, vases, utensils, mugs) and knows how to prep the clay for usage as well as how to bake a finished product.

Name: Argurios Leathertramp
Age: 13
Gender: male
Race: half-orc
Class: ranger

What you want to be when you grow up? A Brewer of the finest ale. Having a big beehive, lots of fruit trees and a shipbuilder.

Who is your mentor? My father Raknar, he though me how to take care of the land and the family trade, which is tailoring and leather smiting.
Brief Biography: at the village. His mother was a human whore, but his father an orc. Raknar spent half of his wealth, which he got from serving in the army paying a whore to bore him a son. After the birth Raknar took his son and traveled to a distant small village. Here he settled down. The boy’s name is Argurios. Since he was small Argurios helped his father at the farm and in crafting leather. Like at any farm, pestilence was a great problem. His father set traps for moles and rats, but this didn’t end the problem, just lessened it. Argurios advised to buy a dog or some pet to keep watch of the fields, but his father disagreed. For Argurios’s seventh birthday Raknar gave him an old sling which Raknar used in the army. The boy learned how to use the weapon fast and grew fond of it. For exercise he used the sling to hunt rabbits, rats and other pests that ruined the fields. One time, as he was chasing a rabbit and swinging the sling above his head he tripped and loosened the sling. The stone flew and accidentally slammed into Raknar's face breaking one of the tusks. Work on a farm was full of wounds of all sort. At young age Argurios was constantly wounded, being cut, broken, or infected. For most of these wound his father took care of. Even when the wound was infected Raknar rarely sent Argurios to the village healer. Each time Raknar took care of Argurios, Argurios carefully watched the work and in time learned how to patch himself up. When he was 12 he accidentally messed up an order of one of the village men, and so he had to help him at the saw mill for half a year. He worked through the mornings. At afternoons he had nothing to do. The saw master showed him how to make bows. With his first bow Argurios made, he spent practicing. Before he could become skilled with it, he already played his debt and went back to his farm. At home he didn’t have the time to practice with the bow so the weapon just sat in his room. Argurios and his father also took care of the house. Raknar was a stubborn orc and whenever something in the house broke he had to fix it himself, or it would stay broken. Argurios naturally helped every time and learned how to fix multitude of things along the way.

What person(s) of interest do you know in the village? Who all do you have a relationship with?: all of them. His family is the only one with such quality leather crafting, and so all come to him for all sorts of things. They all know who Argurios is, yet have no personal relationship.

Equipment: basic leather crafting equipment. Hunting knife, lots of rope. An ancient sling. His father’s tusk, which he broke as a child. A bow, not of high quality, but it shoots (most of the time.)

Class Skills:.
Can swing an axe. ( he learned this at his home while chopping wood for lots of things- like burning.) Very good with an ancient sling (he learned it when hunting rats on the field.)
Learned how to shoot a bow and make one at the sawmill.

Villager Skills: 'Basic Farming Knowledge'. Leather crafting. Basic wound healing.

Name: Aiden Folkvar

Age: 15

Race: Human

Appearance: A little tall for his age and has large bone structure. He has toned muscles that are well on the way to forming into an impressively built adult. His jaw is squared with a hint of fuzz starting to come in on his upper lip. His hair is light brown and kept in a crew cut. He has Hazel eyes (green in center to brown on edge). He wears plain boots and brown pants, and has a plain black tunic. He has a few scars on his arms from his work.

Wants to be: a Blacksmith

Teacher/Father: Gurick Folkvar

Person he cares about: His sister Fiina. She is seven years younger than him and ill. Aiden tries to keep her entertained while he can. Even though she is bedridden, he can every now and again take her around town to see how things are outside the house.

equipment: he has a belt with a pouch that he keeps two small books in. one is a journal where he writes down exaggerated things that happened to him for his sister. The other has a collection of pressed flowers that he thought she would like.

gifted items: survival kit, tiger eye carving, dwarven pony carving

brief history:
Aiden had a mother (Helena), a father (Gurick), and one little sister (Finna). His father was a blacksmith by trade, and his mother stayed at home to take care of his sister. Growing up, his father has been teaching him how to smith anything from nails and axles, to swords and shields. Whenever his father went out to hunt, Aiden followed, taking in everything he could. He had shown Aiden some things with a sword, but it was too big for Aiden at the time, so Gurick decided he would just show him how to use a dagger until he was old enough to use a sword. Ever since he could remember, Aiden has been keeping a journal and flower log for Fiina. It was what he did on the few times he was able to relax and not work. He started when she was born and has made a couple volumes by now for her. They lived this happy way until he was fifteen years old.

One night, the small village they lived in was attacked by some small group of bandits looking to make some quick money. The bandits worked quickly, going from house to house, burning and pillaging as they went. Aiden's family was one of the first houses hit. The thatch roof caught flame as a torch was thrown on top of it and the door sealed shut. It seemed that bandit's were trying to avoid as much fighting as possible by burning them down with it. Gurick quickly grabbed an wood cutting ax took it to the door. When he broke through, he gave the two bandits that were blocking the door in a big surprise, though before they could react, they were dead. The roof collapsed as Gurick came back inside to get everyone out. Finna was found hiding under a low table and Aiden was calling out to his father. The mother was knocked out cold and had an injured leg from the support beams falling down on her. Gurick moved the massive timber off of her and hefted it to the side. He picked up Helena as slung her over his shoulder. In his other massive arm he cradled Finna, passed out from the smoke, and turned to Aiden. "follow me and don't leave my side," he commanded. Aiden nodded his head and stuck to him like a shadow.

They bolted from the house trying to get away to a haven not far off in the woods where they could hide and take shelter. It was often a place Aiden and Gurick used while hunting. Unfortunately, the bandits heard the roof crash and looked toward the house and saw their two dead comrades at the door. The bandits' archers started taking shots at the family that ran out. only a few of them went after them. After all, they still had a whole town to work on.

The arrows landing around Aiden and his family gave them an even greater sense of urgency. They picked up the pace, and they were out running the few bandits who were following, but they never looked back. They got to the safe haven, but it seemed only three arrived. When they stopped to rest Gurick laid his wife down to find that an arrow had hit her while she was unconscious and she has died.

Aiden, his father, and his sister made it to Twiddledale a few weeks later. Gurick seemed to be cut off from the world. He got a job as a blacksmith in town, but he didn't talk much except to his children. Finna still didn't grasp the concept of death, but knew she wasn't here anymore. Her health seemed to get slightly worse now that Helena was gone. Now with his mother gone. Aiden took up the chores and taking care of Finna on top of his duties with his father. They didn't hunt anymore because they decided it would be better if they just bought their produce from the market. Although, Aiden would still hunt every now and again do it on his free time.

skills: reading, writing, smithing, hunting, basic arithmetic (money-wise at least), using a dagger as a weapon/tool

Info to be moved here shortly

Name: Dakin Windwalker
Age: 14
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Class: Druid Apprentice

What you want to be when you grow up?: Dakin wants to be a wanderer, much like his mentor, and feels that the direction of his life will never really take shape until he's been out in the world and seen all the paths available. He would also like to become a fully recognized Druid.

Who is your mentor?: Dorn Windwalker - a beast of a man, both literally and figuratively. He is a werebear and a druid of no small skill or renown, well known for his hunting down of evil lycanthropes and protecting of isolated villages near the High Forest. He saved Dakin's life when his village was attacked and has since raised him as he would his own child, teaching him the ways of the forest and of the connection all living things have.

Brief Biography: Dakin was born in a small village on the southern border of the High Forest, his parents were well known inn keepers in the area. He was raised by them with love and affection until his sixth winter when disaster befell their community. A pack of particularly vicious lycanthropes had started terrorizing the area, slaughtering isolated families and attacking trade caravans with bloodthirsty ruthlessness. Though the village did what they could to petition guards and adventurers to help protect them, no help was forthcoming and so on one cold dark night the beasts came. They killed without remorse or mercy and Dakin would have died to their fangs had Dorn not come to his rescue. The Druid werebear had been stalking the evil pack for some time but had been unable to intervene or face them head on. He refused to sit by while they attacked the village, however, and was actually able to use his immense power to drive then all away and save a few innocents. Dakin's parents did not survive and Dorn pitied the child enough to adopt him and bring him far away from the ruins of his old home.

Having a few friends in Twiddledale, Dorn decided it would be a good place to raise the boy and train him as a protector of the wild. Dakin remembers little of that horrible night and can no longer see the faces of his parents, finding many memories oddly suppressed, though he has a large maw-shaped scar over his left shoulder. Over the past eight years he has trained under Dorn and an old hag, who is an old friend of his mentor.

What person(s) of interest do you know in the village? Who all do you have a relationship with?: Dorn Windwalker - local druid and protector.
The old hag - a strange, mysterious woman who has lived in the village as log as anyone can remember.

Equipment:
A well-carved oaken staff.
A holy symbol amulet of Selûne.
A travelers pack.

Class Skills:
Staff Fighting - Dorn has trained Dakin in combat with staves, both lethal and non-lethal, and the boy has quite a talent for it.
Orison 'Guidance' - Dakin can momentarily be guided by the natural life forces in his immediate presence.
Orison 'Know Direction' - Dakin can immediately discern North and his relative location compared to local forests and places of natural importance.
Nature Connection - Dakin has an immediate connection to the natural world: he can discern the most basic properties of unfamiliar plants and can improve the attitudes of non-hostile animals. This also slightly improves his sense of smell, taste, and sight.

Villager Skills:
Mental Fortitude - For reasons Dakin does not yet understand, Dorn has taken extra special precautions in training his mind and conditioning his willpower. He has a number of exercises and tricks for controlling his emotions and thoughts, though he is still a child: prone to new/confusing experiences and mood swings. He is far more resistant to charm effects, psychic intrusion, and magical manipulation of his emotions than most people.

Fishing - Dorn is rather particular about what he eats but there is no doubting that he has a taste for river fish. Using fishing as a test of resourcefulness, dexterity, and most certainly patience, the old druid has spent many hours teaching Dakin how to make fishing-lines and hooks out of the simplest things, how to use those lines and hooks to catch something, and how to prepare that something into a tasty dinner.

Herbalism/Poultice Making - With his own druidic training it seemed only natural that Dakin would learn how to mix various herbs and poultices. He can make treatments for burns, small cuts and abrasions, and even one for fever and infection. However, there is a rather particular potion mixture that Dorn made sure the old hag woman taught the boy, one that involves several rare ingredients often difficult to find unless you really knew where to look. Dakin was instructed to take this mixture once a month, though his mentor would only say it was for a mysterious rash that would return just before he was to take his next dose.

Name: Ronin
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Class: Paladin (Squire)

What you want to be when you grow up?
To become a Paladin, a protector of those unable to protect themselves.

Who is your mentor?
Sir Erikson has been Ronin’s mentor since he was about 6. After discovering the boys potential he had Ronin enrolled at his monastery where he was taught to commune with Helm, the watchful protector. He was also taught to read, write and do basic math. Once he was strong enough to wield a sword Sir Erikson began teaching him in the ways of marshal combat and took him as his personal squire.

Brief Biography:
Ronin doesn’t know of his parents, his earliest memories are of the orphanage in Waterdeep. He remembered that it was a terrible place but not when or how he left, only that it didn’t take long for him to fall in with a gang of pickpockets and cut-purses. Jorvan was in charge since he was the oldest and the biggest, he let them all stay in his abandoned warehouse for a cut of whatever they had managed to steal that day. He also got any jewelry since he knew someone who would buy it. Those who didn’t, Johnny would beat and have them thrown down into the sewer since there was an open grate in the middle of the building.
Then one day he was trolling one of the many bustling markets for people to steal from. He didn’t want to, but he afraid of Jorvan so he needed to steal from someone. He saw a man wearing a robe but the important part was the shoulder bag he was wearing. When the man stopped Ronin approached, a feeling of unease growing. He focused on the bag and reached out for it when the man’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm. His arm seemed to tingle where the hand grabbed and at the same moment he was suddenly aware of what this man was. A Paladin, as the man turned to look at him his eyes were drawn to the gauntlet shaped pendant with a single blue eye, hung from his neck. Ronin remembered the man who he now knows as Sir Erikson had looked startled upon seeing him. He’s said “Such a strange place to find one of Helms’ chosen.” Then he said to Ronin “Boy, I have been shown a great potential in you. You have the making of one who could protect others, one who can answer to a calling greater then themselves. And I can teach you to become that person. What say you boy?”
Ronin was shocked, he could barely think. Should he run? He didn’t know what to do. Then a clear tone seemed to ring out in his head, quieting the thoughts that ran rampant through his head. “Yes,” Ronin replied. “I want you to teach me.”
After this, Sir Erikson took Ronin to his monastery just outside the walls of Waterdeep. There Ronin was given a warm bed and new clothes, taught by the clerics how to read and write and the priests taught him of Helm, The Vigilant One, and the purpose of being a Paladin. After several years, when Ronin was strong enough to wield a sword, Sir Erikson began teaching him in armed combat. Shortly after training began Ronin developed an affinity for the sword and shield. And when Sir Erikson found him old and competent enough he took him as his squire.

What person(s) of interest do you know in the village? Who all do you have a relationship with?:
None.

Equipment:
Short Sword, Wooden Shield, Chain-mail Shirt over Leather, Basic traveling gear (Map, bed roll, Flint & Steel, ect.), Amulet of Helm

Class Skills:
Trained in the use of sword and shield. Taught how to treat minor wounds.

Villager Skills:
Was taught how to read and write at the monastery. Was taught how to repair and maintain weapons and armor by Sir Erikson. Was taught how to care for horses and riding gear.

Age: 14
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Class: Bard/Spy

What do you want to be when you grow up?
Kaya wants nothing more than to leave this dusty and desolate village. She craves for adventure, excitement and the possibility to meet new people to listen to her songs. Kaya has a great interest in politics, diplomacy and the genuine power of words. Her sharp mind loves to engage in high level conversations and she often understands far more from the world then people of her age do. She enjoys being seen yet keeping her true intent hidden. Kaya enjoys to manipulate people and butt her nose into affairs that are none of her concern.

Kaya has learned that being a talented musician opens many doors. Wealthy merchants just let her in to listen to the songs she plays on her flute or hear her sing. Combine this with her innocent child face and nobody suspects her when a few coins are missing.

Bio:
Kaya was born in the village 14 years ago as an only child. Her parents own a small farm at the outskirts of town where the family is living happily ever since enjoying the quiet village life of working the fields and reaping the harvest. Kaya would start helping out on the farm from a young age. From the first moment she helped out on the farm she instantly knew that this was not the life she was looking for. Her passions was something else, music.

From the day Kaya was born her mother would play a lullaby on the flute or sing her a song before going to bed. One night Kaya’s mother forgot to take the flute with her and the young girl could not resist this opportunity to explore what she could do with the instrument. Within moments she had learned how to play most notes and was able to play the same songs her mother would play for her. Attracted to the melodies Kaya was playing her parents would closely listen by the door. Nobody could deny that this young girl had a talent for music.

A couple of year later her father brought Kaya with him to a meeting of the village elders. They were discussing politics and preparations for the winter season. For hours she would listen intrigued to what the men were discussing. Frequently her father would ask his little girl if she wasn’t bored by all this grown up talk but Kaya simply replied that she found the conversations very intriguing. On the way back she would recite what the men discussed and give her opinion on the subjects and people. She told her father to watch out for farmer John. He was only interested in acquiring more land for his own farm. Especially the land of her father. Kaya’s father knew she was right despite the fact that farmer John never had mentioned directly. Kaya had deduced it simply by listening and observing how the man spoke.

The next evening a stranger banged on the door looking for a place to spend the night. The male half-elf was soaking wet from the rain and looked like he had been walking for weeks. The man did not carry much except for a lute. He introduced himself as Aeden Mirrets a vagabond and traveling musician. He would over the family his music and stories in exchange for a meal and a place to sleep for the night. Kaya simply replied that there was no need for a musician since she’s playing the flute. Intrigued by this answer Aeden asked if she would play a little for him. As he listened to the young girl play he noticed her talent and quickly started to play along. The Half-Elf and the young human girl played for the entire night. By dawn Aeden approached Kaya’s parents with an offer. Let me stay on the farm and I’ll teach your daughter my trade.

Under the tutorage of Aeden, Kaya developed not only her musical skills but also learned the craft of speaking, listening and observing. Aeden would tell Kaya the stories of his travels to vast human cities and great Elven cultures. The Half-Elf would talk about his encounters with mighty Orc chiefs and how he played for a Dwarven king. Over the course of 3 years, Kaya learned about the history of Faerun, how to speak, read and write Elfish and developed her social skills.

Persons of interest in the village:
1. Karl Gheine, Kaya’s father
2. Samantha Gheine, Kaya’s mother
3. Aeden Mirrets, Kaya’s mentor

Equipment:
1. Her mother’s flute
2. The book of songs and poems. It’s an old book given to apprentice bards
3. A small dagger
4. A hairbrush

Class skills:
1. Bardic song – lullaby. A song that has the power to put those who listen to it to sleep.
2. Bardic song - The song of fascination. A song so intense that it has the power to capture the minds and attention of its listeners completely making them unaware of their surroundings.
3. Sense motive – Kaya is able to tell if other people have ulterior motives when in conversation
with her. She can tell this from observing the body language and how words are spoken.
4. Speak language. Elfish. Kaya can fluently speak, read and write the language of the Elves.

Villager skills
1. Perform flute and sing. Kaya is a very talented musician with a great singing voice. Her mother though her how to play flute and how to sing. Also she can read sheet music.
2. Advanced social skills. Kaya has a great intuition when it comes to interacting with other people. She often can sense how people would like to be approached, what they would like to hear and this enable her to get people on her friendly side or manipulate them into doing things.
3. Photographic memory. Kaya never forgets anything. She can recall conversations she had with other people word for word even when they were done years back. Even memorizing the small details about how words where pronounced, what the body language was and even miniscule details of what clothes the person was wearing. As long as Kaya focuses herself on the person or object of interest, she will remember it.

Name: Atrus Talan
Age: 13
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Class: Alchemist (Level 0)

What you want to be when you grow up? I want to become an alchemist, and make the most powerful potions known to... everyone.

Who is your mentor? Old Autry is my Mentor, and I have the pleasure of calling her a good friend. Although a herbalist, and I'm an alchemist, we get along well and she always shows me new and unique ways to use all sorts of ingredients. I know how to make simple charms and potions because of her, and I hope I can use that knowledge to better my advances.

Brief Biography: From what I heard, my Mother and Father came to Twiddledale only days before I was born, and Autry was there to help my mother with the pain she was having while I was brought in to the world. My mother was had only dabbled in alchemy before, and my father to say the least was a spellsword of sorts, being hired for his magic for money to keep food on our table. When he came back around every so often, he'd bring me things to occupy my time, usually simple ingredients and things. I grew to liking all of the ingredients he brought me and eventually came to Old Autry to see if she could help me do anything with them. That day I truly started to love Alchemy. My mother also advanced in it as well and made it in to a hobby for herself while my father was elsewhere.

What person(s) of interest do you know in the village? Who all do you have a relationship with?: Well, I don't get out that much unless I'm either going to Autry's, or exploring the outskirts of the village for ingredients to use for my alchemy. I'm usually just held up in my room, combining all of my ingredients together to see what they make.

Equipment: It's not much, but just the ingredients that I get from around the village, and whatever leftovers Autry lets me keep after I work on something at her home.

Class Skills: I'm just an Alchemist, and nothing else. With my mother's and Autry's help, I'm getting pretty good, but I know that there's still a lot to learn.

Villager Skills: Working with Autry, the herbalist, I've come to know my plants pretty well. Reading and writing have always come easy for me, since my mother used to me an scholar. she is very smart, and many of her logical skills have passed on to me.

Name: Thovren Trannyth
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Race: Half-elf
Class: (Level 0) Fighter

What you want to be when you grow up? Thovren always wanted to make a name for himself. To be like his father and amass his own fame and his own fortunes. To go one great adventures and see wondrous places during his travels.

Who is your mentor? 's father mainly. A human man named Serath. Serath began as a private mercenary in his youth. Barely able to swing a blade himself he set out with a head filled with ideals of glorious combat and loaning his sword to worthy causes. Needless to say the first few battles knocked many of those ideals clean from his mind, But not all of them. Eventually he founded his own mercenary band, small but filled with men and woman he trusted.
During one of his assignments where his ban was hired he met Thovren's mother. Shortly after he slowed the pace of his traveling, letting his lieutenants run the physical side of things while he took care of logistics and liaison. Eventually as his age caught up with him he abandoned Mercenary work altogether having already accumulated a tidy sum for himself. He settled in the quietest village he could remember from his traveling days with his soon to be complete family.

Brief Biography: From what his parents tell him it was shortly after his birth that his parents decided to retire and move to the village. To have a safer place to nurture their now budding family. He was a babe when he first arrived and only remembers being raised within the village.
From an early age he was clearly his fathers child. Instead of tilling a fields all day he was a part of the towns small militia, which was organized and led by his father. He would get up in the morning with an enthusiasm only a child could have and imitated(as best he was able) the exercises he saw the militia do during the days. The militia knew about their shadow member and found great amusement in that fact he would mirror everything they did. And his father didn't mind this. Because it kept his boy within eyesight and he knew that at the very least he was doing something productive if he was copying their exercise routines. The other members would chuckle and constantly try to wave over the 'little guardsman' as he was called. Make pretend stories of goblins or such preparing to raid the village, and that every able bodied boy would need to be called for defense. Of course during his younger years he soaked this up as the truth. Nodding furiously and working until he would eventually collapse for a nap.
Around when he was ten the militia started to include him regularly. Teach him the basics. While the villages armory was limited, mostly relying on what the blacksmith could make when not showing horses or forging nails and tools. And what heirlooms members of the village had from their grandparents or the like. So that's where his skills stayed. He worked himself for athleticism. Training with wooden swords and practicing with an old crossbow that his father kept when he needed to hunt. Strength and endurance training filled his days. And on the few days when the militia did not train he was either resting or put to work with the blacksmith, carrying loads of ore, working the bellows, hammering out basic objects like hooks and nails. Anything that put his strength to use.

What person(s) of interest do you know in the village? Who all do you have a relationship with?: Serath, One of the more prominent people in the village because of the wealth he had when he settled here and because of the help he lends as an occasional hunter to kill the odd wolf or bear that strays to close for comfort.
The old hag- An old woman that none of the younger children know the name of. All they know is that her home smells terrible and some of the scent managed to stick to her body. There are of course rumors abound as only children can imagine about what it is inside her home that causes such a stench. But no one has been brave enough to make the attempt of even cracking open the door. In reality she is a kindly old woman, one who knows poultices and basic bandage making and healing arts. She knows what the children whisper about her and finds it incredibly hilarious. Even playing along at some points.
-Milanee Silentread. Thovren's elven mother. From he can gather from his parents his mother was young when she first met his father, even for an elf. From what his father says his mother participated in a handful of engagements and assignments. Even though his mother claims she was a cook and a trained baker specifically. His father told him how she was quote the sight with a bow back in the day.

Equipment:
-Light crossbow, (older piece, but still functional.)
-10 Crossbow bolts,
-Dark blue shirt, Thick Brown trousers,
-Sturdy Brown leather gloves and brown leather boots.
-Simple dagger
-Studded leather pauldron over his right shoulder, it was originally a joke gift from the militia to signify when he truly was able to join them, instead of following alongside as an impressionable child. He wears it with great pride despite knowing its real meaning.
-Small coin purse

Class Skills:
-Crossbow use. His father taught him basics of aiming and firing a crossbow, which he says can be far more versatile that a bow if used right.
-basic Hand to hand skills, Not something to rely on it was an invaluable set of lessons none the less. Ivellios left the village for his own adventures before he had the chance to learn more than the most basic bladework.
-Basic bladecraft. Even knives he has learned to use mostly for survival. But he can use it to defend himself in a steep situation. He has learned basic sword strokes though by far his most proficient weapon is the crossbow.
-Weapon maintenance. If he was going to learn a weapon, his father was dam certain he was going to learn how to take proper care of it. He wasn't going to let his son die because he was to lazy to scour away a little rust from his axe. Or treat a split in his bow.

Villager Skills:
-Basic survival. Even though his father was a mercenary Thovren still had to help with other chores in the village, one of which was setting into the woods to help gather basic poultice supplies, chop firewood for his family and for the village. or even bag the occasional small game with the hunters for meat (although he was usually just there to carry the arrows and help haul back the corpse.)
-Basic fletching (can make rough if not adequately balanced bolts from wood and stone if necessary.)
-Literacy was taught to him at an early age by his mother.