JJ Doe

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

Olo Dudley

“And I’ll smash your puny head if I ever see you again!” a voice said so loudly that it seemed to reach every corner of the town. Bystanders in the streets watched with bated breath as a raged barbarian took one huge step towards what looked to be a child, ready to do what he said he would do ‘the next time he saw him’. If it were not for the fighter who stood between him and the child, no one would have been surprised if the barbarian did smash the child’s head in the middle of town. The man practically huffed smoke through his nostrils before stomping towards a parked wagon. The wizard of the group, uninterested in the whole ordeal, followed the barbarian into the wagon. When the possibility of a child being beaten up and a fight ensuing vanished, so did the interest of the onlookers. Many resumed what they were doing previously.

“Are you alright, Olo?” the cleric asked the child. The child nodded weakly, but his honey flower eyes were glued to the ground. The cleric parted her lips, intent on saying something until a new argument erupted from the wagon between the barbarian and wizard. She glared at the wagon with annoyance, tried to continue, but the escalating bickering in the background distracted her once more. “You should go,” Olo said, meeting the cleric's eyes, he offered the smallest of smiles, “I’ll be fine.” The woman returned the smile, “May Lathander watch over you and the dawn bring you hope.” Olo, not sure how to reply, simply answered, “Stay safe out there.” “And you,” the cleric rushed back to the wagon to calm her party members down, leaving the leader of the group with Olo.

“Sorry about all this.”
“No, no. Don’t be. It was my fault. If I wasn’t such a klutz we wouldn’t have almost died back there. I,” Olo’s voiced stuttered, “I know this is for the best… I just wish I could’ve done better.”
The fighter extended his hand to pat the halfling’s fluffy hazelnut hair then thought better of it. Instead, he knelt down to place his hand on Olo’s shoulder. “You’ll get there. We just… can’t risk it right now. If things are as bad as rumors say they are---”
“I’d be a liability.”
“Olo.”
Olo smiled, “Don’t worry, it’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”
The fighter grimaced for a moment, “Maybe… we can team up again. After we clean up the mess around Daggerford.”
“That’s… kind of you to say, but you don’t---”
“I’m serious.” Firm hands turned the halfling so that the two were facing each other, “When you hear that Daggerford is no longer plagued by whatever it is suffering from right now, come find us and then we’ll try out something easier together. Okay?” Befuddled, Olo stared at the fighter’s expression to gauge how serious his offer was. Why would anyone want him back into the group, especially after such a debacle?

“Christoph!” the wizard cried out, “Let us depart! I cannot stand wasting more time than we already have!”

“Coming!” The fighter stood up to leave, “Think about it. Oh, and no pressure.” Christoph glanced towards the dark figure sitting patiently next to Olo’s luggage. “Take care of Olo for us, Dorothea.” The large feline gave a slide-glance in response to the request but nothing more.

As he watched the wagon carry the four adventurers out of town Olo waved both of his hands in the air, “Good luck guys!” He smiled when he saw two out of the four waved back, but as the distance between the wagon and himself grew, the smile slowly faded away and both his gaze and his hands started to lower. By the time the wagon disappeared into the distance, Olo was staring at the ground once again, kicking the dirt every now and then.

Dorothea butted her head against Olo’s side, snapping him out of it. “Well Dot, it’s just you and me again.” Olo scratched her forehead, “I think I can use a drink, what about you?”

---

---

The tavern Olo found was far from the cleanest place he’d ever been to. The floor was mostly littered with dirt from shoes, pieces of food that fell off the plate for one reason or another, and other questionable things that he and his siblings would have been scolded for if they had not cleaned up back home. What an absolute fit his parents would have if they saw this place. At least the establishment had the common decency to wipe the tabletops when the patron left.

Olo maneuvered his way towards the bar counter with Dorothea right alongside him. After a few attempts at climbing the bar stool, Olo placed some coins onto the counter, “I’d like a pint of beer, please.” The barkeeper studied Olo, “I think you’re too young to appreciate the taste of beer.”
Glancing at the bottles in the back, Olo asked, “Does… that mean I should try your whiskey?”
The man burst into laughter and was joined in by the other patrons who were close enough to see the whole exchange. “No, kid, I mean that alcohol is for adults, not kids.”
Olo crossed his arms and puffed his chest to look bigger, “I’m not a child.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure thing kid.” The bartender surveyed the crowded room, “Where’re your parents?”
“You can try looking, but I highly doubt they’d be here or this town.” Olo sighed. He hated it when this happened. Olo seemingly stopped growing since he turned ten and he was reminded on a daily basis that he still looked like a little boy at the age of thirty-one. “Look, can I get something to drink? I have the money to pay for it.”
“I don’t serve drinks to kids.”
“Seriously, I’m not a child.”
“Said every kid when they wanted to do something they shouldn’t.”

Olo let out a frustrated noise and slammed his forehead to the counter. “Okay here’s a deal,” The halfling looked up to see the bartender take a coin and slide the rest back to Olo. “I’ll get milk for you and your furry friend so you can grow up to be big and strong. And when you’re big enough, you can try the beer. How’s that?”

Olo glanced down at Dorothea, who stared right back at him, “Is that satisfactory for you?” She didn’t say anything, but he took her silence as a yes. He narrowed his eyes at the bartender, “You win this round, barkeep.”

Unable to drink his beverage without his mind worrying about what he should do next now that he had no traveling companions aside from a panther, Olo decided to distract himself by observing the other patrons. Most of them looked like locals. Something about them ---their style, their mannerisms, or something--- just felt similar to every other person in town. The few outsiders were easy to spot in the crowd, but there was one man who stuck out even more than the rest.

Initially, it was the almost outlandishly colorful attire that caught Olo’s attention: he had seen nobles and entertainers wear such garments before and wondered if the man was one or the other. When he saw the markings on his face even more questions popped into the halfling’s head. So many questions. None that could be answered unless he asked them directly.

Olo climbed down his perch and approached the man, only to realize that he was in the middle of a predominantly one-sided conversation with the other customers. He was telling stories about his adventures. Olo’s favorite kind of stories. The plan to wait till the man finished talking to ask his questions, immediately switched to him just listening with the rest of the group. He was a passive listener at first, but as he became increasingly enamored by the tales being told and the way they were being told he started inserting well-timed responses. Some were in the form of comments and questions meant to encourage the storyteller to continue; others were facial expressions that shifted dramatically depending on what the man was talking about. Even as the other audiences slowly drifted away, Olo remained, hoping to hear more from the man named Ronan Argyle.

---

---

Olo expected to see Christoph and his crew, but by the time he and Ronan reached Daggerford they were long gone. Part of him was relieved that he was not in any immediate risk of getting his head smashed by the barbarian. There were, however, many others like them. The adventuring type that is. They came from, Olo assumed, various parts of the world. One quick glance at them was enough to convince him that they were all extremely skilled in their respective fields. The others didn’t know Olo’s talent of lacking talent, but he felt the weight of it in his heart. He was an imposter amongst a group of real adventurers, the ones that could actually make a difference in the world. It was a miracle that he was able to convince anyone, let alone the Duchess herself, that he had something to contribute to the team. No Olo, bad Olo, the halfling physically slapped himself. This is not about you right now, it’s about people who need help. You can help, that’s why you’re here. Besides, you’ve been doing a lot of adventuring this past decade! You were mostly on the sidelines during battles, sure, but you’ve done lots of exploring! Yeah, you’re just as much as an adventurer as anyone else. Yeah… Yeah. “Yeah!” Dorothea ---and potentially other witnesses--- watched a halfling spend half a minute slapping himself and energetically saying ‘yeah’ without judgment or interest.

The travel towards the Misty Forrest was surprisingly peaceful. If the wolf tracks were not a constant reminder of what was lying ahead, Olo would have considered it a pleasant walk. Before the group saw the first few hints of a forest, Olo spent his time trying to get to know the members of the party by attempting to start a conversation with them. Some attempts were more successful than others, though none lasted as long as he wanted them to. When he wasn’t talking, he was taking in the scenery, gathering ideas for a song that he promised Ronan he would compose.

Olo began to focus on the task at hand only when the group finally entered the forest. The eerie atmosphere and experience told him that he should be ready to use his ‘weapon’ at any given moment. Even Dorothea’s nonchalance was put at bay. Her body tensed and her ears twitched at the slightest noise in the distance. Her alertness allowed her to take an offensive stance a second before the pack of wolves revealed themselves from the thick mist.

Despite the fact that he could clearly see the wolves right in front of him, the first strike at the group still came as such a surprise to the halfling that Olo reflexively took a step back, only to trip on the ground itself and land on his butt. One of the observant wolves nearby noticed the easy target and took the opportunity to lunge at the halfling. The panther made sure to introduce her claws to its face.

Dorothea growled at the beasts, warning them to keep away from the halfling. She would fight them to the death if she had to. She was, however, at a disadvantage in terms of numbers: Dorothea could potentially handle two of the wolves at a time, but it only took one more wolf to zip past her and rip Olo’s throat out. Based on the three-wolf formation, they knew this as well. She readied herself for the barrage of attacks. Just when the wolves ran towards Dorothea and Olo’s direction an ear-piercing noise erupted from what felt like out of nowhere, momentarily staggering those with sensitive hearing ---primarily the animals.

Olo was back on his feet but was also in a state of panic when the sound that his ‘weapon’ made was nothing like he intended to be. He had made sure to tune the hurdy-gurdy before the party left Daggerford so he could only imagine that something had happened to it since then to morph the sound. Perhaps it was the humidity of the mist ---what the forest was named after--- or maybe it was from the impact of him falling. Maybe even both, Olo didn’t know. Regardless, he needed to concentrate on fixing it quickly. Olo was useless without his musical instrument. He couldn’t be a burden, not this time. Not ever again.

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

@Cube Sounds good to me. In which case I think I'll have Olo just recently kicked out of a different adventuring group. And then maybe Ronan and Olo meet at a tavern where they decide to go to Barovia together?

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

@Cube Oooh, I know I like that idea!

Olo loves hearing stories and would happily sing about Ronan's escapades to others (he probably wrote a few drafts already). Ronan's eloquence alone would impress Olo... so I guess Ronan has another fan to inflate his ego! If Ronan can tolerate Olo’s overall clumsiness I think it’d be a good match. Dorothea might be a little harder to impress than Olo, but as long as Ronan doesn’t cause obvious harm, she wouldn’t mind him (besides, she almost always looks unimpressed).

How long would you like them to have known each other?

Meh. Give Katrina a week with Olo and she'll probably kill anything that threatens him. If she doesn't kill Ronan of Fayren first. So we might be okay. Maybe.

@LadyAnnaLee

I don’t know why but that made me think of Brooklyn Nine-Nine’s Rosa Diaz.

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

Hiya everyone!

As described in Olo’s CS, Olo looks like a child and is not a skilled adventurer by any means. Because of that I think it is highly unlikely that he was asked to help with the Barovian problem in the first place and maybe was even discouraged from participating in this whole thing. He, being the wannabe-adventurer that he is, will still try to join a group.

How he joins this party would depend on whether he already knows one (or more?) of the player characters or not. Olo has been part of many adventuring groups and organizations over the past ten plus years, so it wouldn’t be inconceivable if he met anyone who was part of an adventuring group or organization.

If he met none of the characters previously, I was thinking of having Olo just stalk the first adventuring party he saw. That or perhaps it was pure coincidence that he bumps into the group while traveling. Maybe even a combination of both? He could have been with a different group initially, but then they either (a.) got killed or (b.) left Olo behind when monsters overwhelmed them and Olo was just lucky to survive long enough to meet this party?

I’m open to suggestions!

Ravenloft, The Curse of Strahd.

Olo Dudley

“I’m not a child!”

Name(s):

Olo Dudley

Age:

31 (Though he looks more like a child than an adult)

Gender:

Male

Race:

Halfling

Appearance:

Despite entering adulthood years ago, Olo does not look like he had ever experienced puberty. Everything about him is neotenous, even by halfling standards: he is shorter than the average (adult) female halfling, he has a large round head, big honey flower eyes, a button nose, full lips, pinchable rosy cheeks, and baby fat that refuses to disappear from any part of his body. In fact, the only part of his body that does not look exclusively like a child is his curly hazelnut hair and even that is as soft and wild as baby hair. He dreams of gaining the ability to grow facial and chest hair, but it is unlikely they will come true in this lifetime.

Personality:

A gregarious person at heart, Olo loves socializing. He is not afraid of interacting with others and he will make the effort to know the other person or group of people. Not that it means Olo is skilled in the art of socializing: he has embarrassed himself and others (even annoyed them) on numerous occasions, but those incidents simply didn’t deter him from being garrulous. He has always been stubborn like that. He hates giving up. Optimistic to a fault some say.

Like many other halflings, Olo has a curious mind and is sympathetic to others in need. Traits which have landed Olo in some trouble in the past. He doesn’t mind being roped into trouble, surprisingly enough. Even if he did get mad about it at the time, he wasn’t and still isn’t capable of staying mad for long. That’s why he couldn’t become a barbarian after all.

Olo can become overly enthusiastic about things to the point that he over glamorizes them and fails to critically think. No matter how many years passes, Olo seems to be the same starry-eyed boy. It is, however, thanks to this enthusiasm that allowed Olo to acquire random obscure knowledge that few people know or people generally have no interest in.

Class/Skills

Olo is best described as a bard, but almost solely because he needs to use his instrument if he wants to be of any use during combat. Without it, his ineptitude shines through. In the ten-odd years he spent trying to find what he was actually good at, Olo found out that he: didn’t possess the strength or constitution to be a close-ranged combatant; could reliably never hit the intended target with a long-ranged weapon; lacked finesse of any sort; was too dumb to be a wizard; too impulsive to be anything that relied on discipline; and, as much as he appreciated nature, he could never live out in the wild for extended periods of time. Then what can he do?

After taking a magic aptitude test Olo found out that he did have some affinity towards magic albeit in a very limited fashion. The only way that Olo can cast magic is by creating music (with the intent of casting magic). He usually accomplishes this by playing an instrument, which can technically be anything as long as the noise it makes is interpreted as music to the listener. Due to the nature of the spellcasting, Olo’s magic relies on the target’s ability to detect sounds. Depending on the severity of the condition, it is possible for someone who is hearing impaired to be affected by Olo’s magic via sound vibrations, however, if they do feel the sound they must be able to interpret the vibrations as music. In fact, regardless of the individual’s ability to detect sounds, for Olo’s magic to have any effect on the individual, they must interpret the noise that Olo makes as music. For example, Olo’s magic doesn’t affect his animal companion, Dorothea, because she only hears noises and not music when Olo plays his instrument.

Although the instrument he uses dictates his mobility, the complexity of the spell itself or whether Olo is trying to maintain more than one spell at a time can also determine whether he can move around. Olo’s spells tend to take a lot of concentration, as such, it is not uncommon for him to be vulnerable to enemy attacks. Dorothea has managed to keep Olo relatively safe during these situations in the past, but that does not mean she can do so in the future.

It should be noted that no matter how long the spell was supposed to last, it will end the second Olo stops playing his instrument. It has also been strongly advised by his former mentors that Olo shouldn’t keep playing (casting magic) for long periods of time. The longer Olo plays during one session, there is an increased risk of his mind going mad, his magic getting out of hand, and him becoming comatose. The combination of magic’s law of exchange and general fatigue from performing wears Olo out faster than the more competent spellcasters.

Lastly, the spells Olo casts don't work on himself, it works only on his audience. At the present time, Olo knows some minor buff and debuff spells. He may be able to learn more spells, but only time will tell.

Outside of battle, Olo’s most useful skill is cooking.

Equipment:

• Backpack containing a bedroll, clothes, a mess kit, a tinderbox, rope, rations, a waterskin, and some personal hygiene items: The essentials for any adventurer.
• Coin purse with a few coins: Too little in fact. Olo’s going to need to make some money soon.
• Diary: Olo started writing his adventures in it, as proof that he did do something with his life.
• Handaxe: From his fighter apprentice days. Olo couldn’t swing around any of the other weapons because they were much too heavy for him. It is usually used to chop wood and not heads or limbs.
• Hand crossbow and ammunition: From his ranger apprentice days. Much to Olo’s dismay, it takes strength to pull back a bow, lift a crossbow, and reload a crossbow so he had to use the hand crossbow. Not that it mattered, he couldn’t aim properly anyways. Thank goodness he got to keep Dorothea.
• Hurdy gurdy: The only weapon Olo can actually use. It can also help him make money on the streets!
• Leather armor: Olo would probably collapse from exhaustion if he wore anything heavier.
• Lockpicks: From his rogue apprentice days. Olo is still practicing how to use them, to no avail.
• Animal Companion: Dorothea (who also responds to Dot and Dorothy), the panther, is arguably the only reason why Olo survived as an adventurer thus far.

History:

As long as he could remember, Olo felt the intense feeling of wanderlust. Perhaps it was because he was raised in a tavern where travelers would regale Olo with tales from faraway lands or boast about their most recent adventures. The stories, true or not, enthralled Olo. Not a day passed by when he did not wish to see the world beyond his hometown and take part in an adventure of his own. He dreamed a lot but never acted.

As years crawled by ---call to the road unanswered--- Olo became increasingly restless and unsatisfied. He felt guilty for feeling that way too: he was born to a loving family, who had enough money to take care of the ridiculously large family (Olo never understood why his parents wanted to have 14 children, but they did and they swear none of them were by accident), in a close-knit community that never knew of strife, pestilence, or famine. Olo knew he was more fortunate than many others in the world; he knew that he should be grateful, and he was grateful… just not happy. It got harder to convince himself to stay home each year. One day ---his birthday--- Olo decided that he was going to finally leave. He told his family and they made sure that he knew that they thought it was a god-awful idea. No Dudley has ever left their town ever since their great-great-great-grandparents settled in. But more importantly, Olo was just incompetent: his kind only managed to survive because others took care of them. Olo knew this and that’s why he had to leave. So he did, that very evening, in the dead of night. Only to be kidnapped by bandits a few hours later. Fortunately for Olo, he was rescued by a group of adventurers before he was sold into slavery.

For the next ten plus years, Olo would find himself hopping from one organization, big or small, to another. The reason for him not being able to stick to one group varied, but it ultimately boiled down to one of five things: (a.) he managed to botch something so bad that he was no longer welcome to the group; (b.) he lacked the skill(s) necessary and was unable improve no matter how much he trained or studied; (c.) the group wanted something from Olo that he could not give; (d.) he was too loud; or (e.) all of the above. Olo is currently trying to find another group to tag along with for his next grand adventure.

The Divine

Kythaela Wyvernhide

~A few days after Ariella’s capture~

The half-elf stood frozen in the middle of the throne room, absolutely gobsmacked. She, Kythaela Wyvernhide, serving the Goddess’s reincarnate? An insignificant peasant from some backwater village, personally caring for the Goddess Aurelia? This had to be a dream. Kythaela would have slapped herself across the face with all her might to check if she was not in the presence of Emperor Ulric Blackwood and a small audience. So she waited, just for a moment or two, to see if she would wake up, or if someone would reveal that they were only playing a prank on the gullible woman. But when neither happened, her hands shot up towards her mouth, failing to stop Kythaela’s soft gasp from escaping her lips.

Words could not possibly describe how honored she felt. She had never been more proud of herself: she was chosen to do something special. It was a warm feeling that gradually turned cold as the exact words the Emperor uttered reached Kythaela’s frontal lobe. A scapegoat: the Emperor chose her to be sacrificed for “the greater good” … all because she kind of looked like Aurelia’s reincarnation --- and unlike her, Kythaela was expendable.

Terror’s cold embrace took ahold of Kythaela. Thoughts ran wildly through her head. She thought of death, the finality of it. Was she prepared to die for her country, her Goddess? She thought about what would happen if she failed this holy mission. Are the consequences of failing something Kythaela can live with? Even the thought of flat out refusing the Emperor’s request flashed through her mind but that was just as quickly pushed out. Although Ulric chose his words carefully, his “request” was a thinly veiled order. As a mere commoner, a subject of the Great Aerowyn Empire, defying the direct order of Ulric Blackwood was treasonous. The Empire would make sure that Kythaela and her family were disgraced and unwelcomed as long as they resided within the Empire. She could not do that to her family.

The train of thought that lead to her family loosened terror’s grip on Kythaela, allowing her to relax. Recalling each of their faces, voices, and mannerism made her realize what was and always had been her top priority: her family. Whatever she decided at that moment would affect her family no matter what, so Kythaela had to be absolutely sure that her decision benefited them.

Kythaela closed her eyes and took in a depth breath, before bowing. “There are no words that can accurately express how honored I am to be chosen for such an important role.” The people around her nodded in agreement or looked at the display with indifference. No one here expected her to say no to Ulric: she was a servant and he was her Emperor. This meeting could not have played out any other way. Up until the point where she continued with a, “However.” Kythaela could feel the room become uncomfortably still, eyes all staring down the foolish half-elf.

“I must humbly request two things from you if you wish me to take on this duty, your Imperial Majesty.”

Kythaela’s elven ears heard the audience mutter amongst themselves, shocked by the nerve of the lowly woman. Kythaela swallowed as she lifted her gaze towards the Emperor.

“I have a family that I love very much back home. A great distance separates us, but not a single day has passed that I don't think of them. As much as I wish I could be with them, we are not financially well off, hence why I am working here. My first request is that they are compensated handsomely upon,” Kythaela hesitated to get the next words out, “the unlikely event that I should perish.” The silence that followed her sentence and Ulric’s hand movement commanded her to continue.

“My second request… is that my family will not be punished for my actions during my service to the Goddess, no matter the outcome.” Kythaela rounded up all the courage she could muster at that moment to look straight into the Emperor’s eyes, “My failures are mine, and mine alone. I will bear any punishment without resistance, but my family cannot be blamed for what I do.”

She bowed her head down, praying to the Gods and Goddesses, “These are my requests, your Imperial Majesty.”

For a few moments the Emperor looked down upon Kythaela, his hardened face not moving a single muscle. His council watched him carefully, holding their breath in anticipation until suddenly a warm chuckle escaped Ulric's mouth and he smiled. "You are brave, aren't you girl?" He gestured as if to wave her off, out of the council chamber. "So be it then. You shall have your wishes."

---

~The day before Ariella’s meeting with the Divines~

Praise the Gods, she did it. She had no idea how, but she managed to do it: Kythaela forged a legally binding contract with the Emperor. He could probably nullify the contract if he truly wanted to, but at least Ulric would not able to do it in good conscience. Kythaela would have to have really mess things up for the Emperor to become vindictive enough to go out of his way to nullify the contract. That or the Empire itself would have to be in a dire situation in need of someone, anyone, to blame. A situation which the Goddess Aurelia was to save them from… Hopefully.

Kythaela straightened her dress, in an effort to look more presentable, and took in a few deep breaths for the seventh time since she reached the door. Just passed this door was a mortal deity, an awe inducing powerful being; the god who can change the world. Her heart couldn’t stop racing. Perhaps it was a fruitless endeavor to even try to calm herself down, but she didn’t want to make a bad first impression. Stay cool, calm, and collected, Kythaela. You can do it. She pulled out a paper filled with key phrases in the Kassian native language. Kythaela only just started to study Kassian, so she was far from fluent. She did, however, hope that hearing something familiar would make the introduction process much smoother.

After putting the paper away, the servant knocked on the decorative door. When she got no response the second time she knocked on the door Kythaela let herself into the Goddess’s private quarters, “Pardon my intrusion, Goddess.”

It was impossible for anyone’s eyes not to be drawn to the beautiful figure in the room, despite the elegant decorations that overflooded the space around her. Standing near the window, in all her holy radiance, was the Goddess Aurelia. She who saved Aerowyn from evil many centuries ago; the one so powerful that she could shape the world as she pleased. Kythaela felt her cheeks blush when the Goddess locked eyes with her. The half-elf quickly averted her gaze to look down at the floor. To think that someone would ever mistake someone like Kythaela with the Goddess, flattering, but it was an insult to the Goddess.

Kythaela performed a formal Kassian greeting gesture, “<Good day, oh great one. You honor me with your presence.> ” The Aerowyn accent was thicker than molasses and even with how slow she talked, Kythaela still fumbled with the words. With how badly butchered her following sentences were, Kythaela should have stopped using Kassian, yet she trudged on. Maybe the servant would have noticed the change in the Goddess if she had just looked up, but she didn’t. “<With your permission, allow me to introduce myse---…>”

Ariella's gaze snapped towards the girl, eyes shooting icy daggers with intent to kill. "You mock me?" Her hands slowly curled into fists as an animalistic urge came over her body. "Leave!" She pointed to door, face beginning to flush with anger. "Get out! NOW!"

At first, Kythaela didn’t know what had happened. Did she do something wrong? Well, she must have. Why else would the Goddess be so furious with her? She opened her mouth to explain that she meant no ill will, but instead of words with meaning, a strangled noise took its place. Kythaela turned pale, breaking out into cold sweat, as panic set in. Her throat tightened to the point that she couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening now. No. Not now of all times.

Where did the courage to negotiate with the Emperor go? Was this meeting not just as, if not more, important for her family?

In a last-ditch attempt, Kythaela tried to fish out the piece of paper with Kassian on it, but her trembling hands made it near impossible to do such a simple task. She was a heartbeat away from fainting when she finally pulled out the piece of paper. Perhaps it was because she felt some form of relief when she finally got the paper that Kythaela’s throat relaxed. As soon as it did, however, instead of a sound ---whether it be a pathetic noise or actual words--- coming from her windpipe, what Kythaela had for breakfast shot out of her gullet.

She may have managed to save her family from the wrath of mortals… but what could she possibly do to protect her family from the wrath of a Goddess? Nothing. All Kythaela could do was pray and hope that another God would take pity on her miserable soul.

The Divine

Kythaela Wyvernhide

Kythaela Wyvernhide

Age:
Twenties

Appearance:

At a distance, and even from behind, Kythaela can be mistaken for Ariella. Not only do they both possess similar hair and eye color, they also are roughly the same height and build. Upon closer inspection, however, anyone who has ever seen Ariella can easily tell the two apart. While Kythaela and Ariella do have the same long dark hair and freckles, their physical similarities end there. Compared to Ariella, Kythaela’s facial features are much rounder: from the shape of her face to her nose. The only exceptions are her slightly pointed ears. The blue portion of her hazel eyes are so vivid that many fail to notice the flecks of brown and green.

Personality:

If there is one word to describe Kythaela it would be “timid.” Kythaela had always been the quietest one of the family. She kept most thoughts to herself and hardly spoke up for herself. Kythaela does not like confrontation of any degree and is more likely to deflect or flee the situation at hand than to face it head-on. Not to say that she wouldn’t be confrontational if it involved her family. Her family means everything to Kythaela. If it was for them, Kythaela would face King Ormund and his army… albeit with as much finesse as a newborn fawn taking its very first steps.

Kythaela struggles with anxiety when it comes to social situations, especially when interacting with people of higher stature. She can, however, learn to be more relaxed around individuals she trusts and knows on a personal level. Luckily for her, most nobles like servants that are quiet and submissive. At the very least, she’s yet to receive a complaint about her behavior around nobles.

Kythaela’s spirituality has been both a source of emotional support and what prevents her from being more adventurous. She does not take risks out of fear that she would fail, but more importantly, Kythaela managed to convince herself that the gods would punish her ---or worse, her family--- for that failure.

Race:
Half-elf

Origin:
Riverwood village, which is located on the outskirts of Aerowyn, near the border of Lyros.

Residence:
Within the castle of Emperor Ulric Blackwood, servant’s quarters.

Position:
Peasant

Occupation:
Servant

Bio:

Kythaela was born and raised in a small village on the outskirts of Aerowyn territory. Aside from the fact that her family was, and still is, considered to be a novelty attraction of their village ---largely due to the family being comprised of a dwarf, a human, a giantess, a halfling, a half-elf, and three half-dwarves--- Kythaela lived a ordinary life that any peasant would have lived. She was a nobody and she would die as a nobody, just like the numerous faceless, nameless, people before her. At least, it would have played out that way had King Ormund not declared war.

The day that changed Kythaela’s life came a short time after the reincarnation of Aurelia was dragged into the castle. Kythaela was cleaning in the main hallway when her arm was grabbed by a knight who started to scold her for attempting to “escape.” It did not take too long after that for the knight to realize that Kythaela was not who he thought she was. He apologized and that was the end of that. Except, it wasn’t.

The very next day, Kythaela was summoned by the Emperor. He ordered Kythaela to become the Ariella’s personal caretaker, but he also wanted Kythaela to become her double. Should the occasion arise, Kythaela was to take Ariella’s place to trick the enemies and give Ariella a chance to survive another day. In other words, Kythaela had the honor of becoming a scapegoat.

Wyvernhide family

• Dhuldran Wyvernhide: A dwarf that used to be an adventurer who now made a living making textiles. He adopted a halfling and a giant before marrying a human seamstress, Roesia, who was 8 months pregnant with a half-elf child.
• Roesia: A human who was working as a seamstress in the capital before she got pregnant with Kythaela. She was disowned by her family due to the pregnancy and her employers fired her to avoid being associated with a scandal. With nowhere to go, she went to her friend Dhuldran for help. The two eventually got married.
• Nanette: A giant and eldest child of the Wyvernhide household. She was found abandoned in the mountains during one of Dhuldran’s adventures. She now works as a carpenter in the city.
• Cheldric: A halfling and second eldest child of the Wyvernhide household. He is the child of Dhuldran’s old companions, who both died during one of their adventures. He now works as a merchant and travels around the known world.
• Ikz, Yan, and Xec: Half-dwarf triplets and the youngest of the Wyvernhide household. Riverwood village hasn’t known a single quiet day since the scamps learned to crawl. In recognition for being such mischiefs, the villagers gave the monikers “Goblin”, “Imp”, and “Kobold” to the boys.

The Divine

@The MuseAwsome, sounds great! Can't wait to read more about the setting :)

The Divine

Interested!

I do have questions concerning PCs though:

You mentioned how the Divine would train the reincarnation of Aurelia, but do those skills have to be useful in combat? If they can be non-combat skills, how (seemingly) mundane can those skills be?

Does the PC have to be a Divine? Could a player potentially play as Aurelia's servant, bodyguard (not skilled enough to be a Divine, but good enough to be a meatshield should it come to it), body double, etc. etc.?

[closed]

Juuuuuuuust dropping by to say hi.

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