Character Description and Backstory:

Ophelia, based very loosely on the character from Shakespeare's Hamlet (among with other sources), is an otherwise gentle and sweet soul who has been driven insane by ill fate.  By the tragic loss of her father, brother and true love (all three, as in the Shakespeare's play).  And also by the chaotic surge of Wild Magic which is blossoming within her, perhaps as a response to the trauma inflicted on her mind and soul, rather than her suicide which ensued in the Shakespeare's play.  Though she has no comprehension of it, the raging arcane storm within her whispers of a need to venture far north from her wood elven family home in the High Forest at the headwaters of the Dessarin.  To seek out secrets and a fell power hidden somewhere beyond the Ten Towns of Icewind Dale.

Though she has periods of relative lucidity and has shown a penchant for hardiness and survival during her journeys (+4 CON Save Lucky feat), no longer is Ophelia one who walks the world or speaks to others in straight lines, her mind meandering and her words wandering.  What remains of her horrified extended family looked the other way as she took what she needed and departed for north without a backward glance, speaking in riddles of the whispers in her mind.  Of some curse that must be lifted in the teeth of vengeful winter.  To bring nature back to its proper balance, as all wood elves should rightly seek.

Ophelia's madness is neither cruel to others, nor selfish. Just the opposite at times, though her ravings make little sense to most, and the wild arcane power that bursts from her, involuntarily, is not for the faint of heart. Perhaps in the frozen north, Ophelia shall find... something... to ease her insanity... one way or the other.  Or perhaps she shall perish trying.  All she knows is that she must go.  It calls to her like the pale aurora in the sky.

For Forgotten Realms Faction purposes if it comes up, I think Ophelia's personality would have likely made her a low-ranking Harper agent in her prior life.  Which fits with the clandestine spywork Shakespeare's Ophelia was forced into by her father.  Now, with her fractured mind, she only recalls bits and pieces of her Harper contacts and passphrases.  One thing she does remember in her times of lucidity is the guiding words of the great Harper Remallia Haventree:  to live one's life to be the song for those who have no voice.

Sample of the wild magic and poetic insanity which fills Ophelia's mind:

Wild madness became Ophelia whence first drifted the dreams swimmingly, swimmingly up, as snowflakes swirling into a shadowed sky, calling to her like arctic starlings newly hatched, twisting and winding, the strangling fruit snaking through a shattered visage upon on the storm-shorn stone to bring forth the the seeds of the awakened dead and share with the pale beasts who gather in darkness with shining eyes, surging, surging through the savage Icewind Tundra like frigid black water beneath a midnight sun lie the forgotten, my lady, dead and gone, at their head once, not so long ago growingly, growingly grass-green turf, at their heels, the now bleak land, once larded all with summer-sweet flowers which bewept to the winter ground, blossoming, blossoming within the skull, expanding the mind beyond what any man can endure or woman bear, to reveal the fatal softness of the frozen Earth, whence round the bitter decay of that colossal glacial ruin, boundless and bare, yet beckoning, beckoning to her with whispering strands of icy fingers, the lone and level snows stretch far, far away, promising shivering sweets to which the sweet must stray.

(Yes that is intended to be one sentence.)

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Marva spent her young adulthood working in a Neverwinter noble's library, studying and organizing the books. She likes the order of the library, but there is a part of her that revels in the wildness of a good storm. Her parents attribute this wild streak to her birth during a huge blizzard.

When her ancient Gnomish mentor Wrenn Legantel dies, a new head librarian arrives, an elf named Ivellios. He has long coveted the leadership position in this library and wants to bring in all his own underlings. He finds an excuse to throw Marva out.

Marva struggles with finding a new direction. She ends up doing odd jobs where she can find them, often with booksellers or purveyors of historical objects. Her last job was to deliver an item to Ten Towns.

She is not a cleric in the traditional sense of joining an organization that follows a particular diety. Instead, a diety has taken an interest in her through her connection to storms. Marva is not fully aware of her capabilities. The challenge of this adventure is likely to bring out hidden talents.

When a dwarf of the Snowstrider tribe reaches adulthood, they are sent out alone into the world for several decades. They are expected to live with the land, learn its rhythms, help where they can, and survive without the protection of tribe or walls. Only when they feel they have truly understood the balance between ice, storm, and life do they return — not as youths, but as elders.

Bromir is in the middle of that wandering.

He came north because Icewind Dale is one of the harshest places a druid can learn from. If he can survive and understand balance here, he can survive anywhere. He stays in Ten-Towns because it sits at the edge of wilderness and civilization, which is the exact place where balance is most often tested.

Bromir adventures because it is the clearest way to see how the land, people, and monsters are shaping each other. When his decades of wandering are done, he intends to return to his tribe, share his experiences and knowledge, and have a family.

“Farming is simple but far more complex than hunting.” 

Leon lived a simple life. Farming was everything he knew and that worked for him. He lived in a village not even large enough to be put on a map that one would find in the city. The oldest of 6 children Leon raised his siblings when his mother became ill and his father left to search for someone who could help. At the age of 17 Leon’s father would leave for weeks in search of a cleric that would heal his wife. During that time Leon watched his siblings, took care of his mother and worked on the farm. If not for his village, Lean thought that there was no way he could manage. There was a great amount of love in his house but the Gods had a different plan for Leon. 

After 2 years Leon's village found itself dealing with the presence of a werewolf. The loving village Leon once knew became a place of fear and hatred. Accusations were being thrown around every day and friends became enemies overnight. His family could only survive because of the love of his community but with the paranoia came reluctance to help. For months the village felt like Avernus until one night the creature attacked Leon's family. Maybe because he was knocked unconscious or maybe because of a Gods plan, Leon survived the werewolf attack but not unscathed.

The village that once held all the love Leon could want now became a place of fear and accusations. Leon was forced to flee his home and with a target for everyone’s sorrow people started to believe that Leon was the werewolf the whole time. Leon gained many skills from being hunted constantly and after 5 years he learned that hunting those that wish to kill him was easier than escaping. The curse that affected Leon also became his strength. Leon discovered that he could channel his cursed blood in order to gain the power to fight using anger.

Running is an option that only works for a limited time and when Leon had no other option he escaped on a ship heading north. Leon did not know that his situation was only going to get worse but for the few days at sea he thought he had found salvation.

Dvu grew up among the Thuunlakalaga clan, wandering as a young Goliath under the unforgiving sun of the Spine of the World mountains, a land where survival was etched into the very stones. His goliath tribe was renowned for their resilience and their uncanny ability to navigate the treacherous peaks. They tended to be nomads, slow to trust others and build bonds. From a young age, Dvu displayed an innate connection to the wild, his senses sharper, his understanding of animal tracks and weather patterns almost intuitive. He became a skilled hunter and tracker, learning over time to speak in a strange fashion to the animals he encountered. He spent his days guiding hunting parties through perilous terrain, always carrying his sturdy shield and a gnarled wooden mace that his shaman had imbued with a faint, protective glow - he learned how to force his will in a magical way to guide it towards his target.

Over time he became a guide of sorts - he led dwarven prospectors to forgotten veins, escorted some dry elven scholars to an old cave with pictograms, and even guided desperate human merchants seeking new trade routes. Each journey broadened his understanding of the world beyond his tribe, hinting at civilizations and wonders he had only heard whispered about in tales. He learned common tongue from the merchants he guided and some dwarven from the miners.

One particularly harsh winter, a blizzard unlike any Dvu had ever witnessed swept through the Spine of the World. A small caravan he was guiding, laden with precious furs, became trapped in a rapidly shifting avalanche. Despite his heroic efforts, only Dvu and two others survived, huddled in a small, snow-covered cave, the glow of his mace their only source of comfort in the crushing darkness. The experience left an indelible mark on him. He felt the immense power of nature, but also its indifference, and a gnawing desire to understand places where such raw, untamed forces held sway.

After helping the surviving members of the caravan reach safety, Dvu felt a restless stirring within him. The mountains, once his entire world, now felt too small for him. He heard stories from passing travelers about a place of eternal winter known as Icewind Dale, home to settlements called the Ten-Towns. They spoke of challenges unlike any he had faced, of unforgiving cold, and mysteries hidden beneath layers of ice. The tales ignited an old fire in his heart, a yearning for exploration and a new kind of challenge.

He bid farewell to his tribe, a solemn promise to return etched in his heart, and began his long journey north. For months, he walked, his shield on his back, his glowing mace leading the way, guiding himself across the tundra and along frozen rivers. He honed his survival skills further, learning to adapt to ever-changing landscapes, his ranger instincts guiding him through difficult territories. He followed the patterns in the sky and the whispers of the wind that carried tales of the Dale and the communities there.

Dvu made his way to Ten Towns to seek his future and to use his skills to help the travelers he encountered. Who knows where his next journey will lead him...

Isaak Shadowson was born in Bryn Shander during a never-ending winter.

Even before Auril’s curse fell over Icewind Dale, the north was a place where people learned to endure ... or vanish. Isaak learned both. His mother died during a blizzard when he was still a child, lost between town and tundra. His father disappeared soon after, leaving behind nothing but a name no one spoke kindly of.

Only his grandfather remained.

Aurelian Shadowson lived in a shuttered, half-buried house near the outer wall of Bryn Shander, its windows permanently frosted over from the inside. He was known as a strange old man — too old, some said. A man who had arrived decades earlier and never seemed to age the way others did. He survived winters that claimed stronger folk. He remembered events no one else alive recalled.

Aurelian taught Isaak how to survive the cold, how to move quietly through snow and shadow, and how to take what the world would never give freely. By his early teens, Isaak was running messages between the towns, lifting purses from careless travelers, and occasionally stealing supplies meant for those who already had too much.

Aurelian did not stop him.

“The Dale doesn’t forgive kindness,” his grandfather would say. “Only persistence.”

When Auril’s endless night descended upon Icewind Dale, Aurelian grew weaker — but not afraid. He had always spoken of death as something negotiable. Something that could be delayed, bargained with, even tricked.

One night, as the wind howled loud enough to crack timber, Aurelian finally died.

Isaak found him seated by the hearth, frozen solid, eyes open, expression calm. The fire had burned out hours earlier. The cold had taken him quietly.

That night, Isaak dreamed of a frozen expanse beneath a starless sky. His grandfather stood there, half-formed, frost clinging to his bones but never quite consuming him.

Aurelian told him the truth.

The Shadowson line had been marked long ago, tied to ancient bargains made in the far north: experiments in surviving what should not be survived. Aurelian had endured through sheer will and stolen knowledge, but the cost had been high. Everyone else had died. Everyone except Isaak.

“You are the last,” Aurelian said. “And I cannot move on until the line does.”

Aurelian bound what remained of himself to Isaak — not as a ghost, not as a lich, but as something unfinished. The pact was not about power. It was about endurance.

Isaak would live. He would survive the cold, the hunger, the violence, and the creeping death of the Dale. He would accomplish what Aurelian could not: leave something behind. A future. A continuation. Proof that the Shadowsons had not merely lingered, but endured.

After the pact, Isaak found that the cold bit him less deeply. Illness passed him by. Wounds that should have festered instead closed. Death brushed against him ... and withdrew.

And then came Cinder.

The pseudodragon appeared one morning perched atop a frost-covered beam, wings tucked tight, eyes sharp with concern. It did not speak, but Isaak felt its presence — judgment, caution, and something like hope.

Cinder follows Isaak everywhere, an ever-watchful conscience. When Isaak’s criminal instincts push him toward cruelty or indifference, Cinder bristles. When Isaak risks himself for others, the pseudodragon settles closer, warmer than it should be in the cold.

Isaak suspects Cinder is not part of the pact itself, but rather what his grandfather wanted him to become — a reminder that survival alone is not enough.

Now, in Ten-Towns, Isaak moves between the towns as a courier, scout, and sometimes thief. He knows smugglers’ routes across the tundra, which speakers can be bribed, and which inns ask no questions. Some see him as useful. Others see him as cursed.

The endless night presses in. People vanish. Sacrifices are made. Ancient secrets stir beneath the ice.

And somewhere in the frozen dark is the reason Aurelian waited so long to die.

Isaak does not yet know what he is meant to accomplish in Icewind Dale.

Only that the cold has not claimed him yet.

And that death is still waiting.

Why in the Nine Hells does a Calishite pasha's daughter want to travel to Icewind Dale? The desert is down south, princess! 

On her long voyage from the distant land of Calimshan, Zuleikha el-Tarrashi has heard that refrain often enough that she has learned to answer it with a mysterious grin and a wave of her ring-bedecked hands. The truth is not a simple one - the answer is both personal and the consequence of an oath. 

NOBLE BEGINNINGS

The carefree, whimsical daughter of a great pasha who reigns over ancient Almraiven, Zukeikha has been evading her tedious destiny - a betrothal to a fabulously wealthy and stupefyingly boring merchant for the political gain of her father. Drunk on the stories of adventure she read in her youth, she sought to escape the tedious life of a pampered noblewoman, and fearing that she might simply abscond from her duties without notice, her parents eventually gave her leave to see the world for a time. Five years to sow her wild oats, to sup her fill of adventure, and then return and do her duty as a good noble wife.

THE COURT OF THE NOBLE AIR GENIES

Zuleikha leapt at the opportunity, and wandered far into Tethyr and then Amn, trhilled by the opportunity to experience new cultures. But she didn't find purpose until she met Avarikos, an air genasi sworn in service to the floating djinn city of Birun Bur. She followed him, found herself entranced by that culture and its love of caprice and freedom, and a few short months later, and she was taking an oath of allegiance before the Court of the Noble Genie Farnesslee herself. Avarikos was her tutor and trainer, and in time, her lover. But betrayal and ill fortune soon followed. 

THE ICE GENIES OF ICEWIND DALE

Avarikos was a guardian of the Qorrashi Palimpsest, a tome of immense power which held dominion over the ice genies found in the Savage North. One morning, when Zuleikha awoke for her regular duties, the palace was in a panic - Avarikos was gone and it appeared the Palimpsest stolen with him. In the days that followed, pieces of the puzzle were put together -Avarikos had been behaving strangely, and his discarded diary revealed that he was under the sway of a mysterious arctic entity of immense power who plagued his dreams with terrible fears, promises of power, and had gradually weathered away much of his free will. The diary entries were often vague, irrational and disjointed, but it became clear that the Palimpsest would be used to harvest the power of the ice genies to further the aims of the strange icy figure in Avarikos' dreams. 

Zuleikha set out at once - driven by a desire to save her friend, to uncover the truth about the enigmatic frostmaiden, and to prevent the catastrophe befalling the Qorrashi ice genies. She nears her destination in Ten Towns at last, bearing witness to the elemental imbalance that she is duty-bound to rectify. 

(More than happy to discuss the backstory with the DM and modify it to conform with factions/NPCs/existing quests in Icewind Dale if necessary!)

PERSONALITY

Zuleikha often peppers her speech with words from Alzhedo, the language of southwestern Faerun. As a foreigner to the Savage North, she has a habit of employing amusing idioms from her sun-blasted homeland in Calimshan that sound peculiar to those from Icewind Dale. She is fond of playfully boasting and sometimes speaks of herself in the third person. Zuleikha can be accused of telling tall tales in service of a good story now and then. She has a theatrical manner about her in the throes of combat, favouring style as much as lethality. She is fond of luxury, but views the hardships presented by Icewind Dale as grand challenges to overcome. 

SURVIVING ICEWIND DALE
Cold-weather clothing, blanket, tent, crampons, rope, grappling hook, snowshoes, oil, tinderbox, axe-beak. 

Jacques was born in Elturel to a human mother and an orcish father. He was 2 of 7 children, with him having an older twin. Growing up outside the city, Jacques was very happy and grew up with a very healthy and happy family.  As he got older, he discovered his talent of being a strongman and would make money in the city performing feats of strength and playing songs. 

One incident though would change things.  His twin sister, becoming an Acolyte of Milil wished to harness powerful energy in hopes of gaining inspiration to create ta powerful symphony.  This however backfired, infusing Jacques with unknown energies and injuring his twin.  Feeling guilt, Jacques fled and joined a band of entertainers to travel the Sword Coast. 

A few weeks ago, the troupe found themselves up north toward Icewind Dale. As they traveled, Jacques found himself separated from his group due to a blizzard and wandered miles and miles aimlessly until they found themselves in the Ten Towns.