Cailee's story began deep in the forests of territory unknown (to her). At only 4 years old, a wildfire had wiped out much of her home, and in the chaos, she lost contact with her family. Before the fire could end her short life, she was saved by an elder Firbolg woman, who whisked her away from the disaster and fled to Thornwood. Knowing that her days were numbered, the elder taught Cailee how to be a druid as soon as she was capable so that she would not have to face the world alone with nothing but instinct to help her. By the time Cailee was 8, she could identify edible plants and fungi, trap animals for food, and construct bare bones shelter. Feeling confident that Cailee could continue on her own, the elder passed away peacefully.

Distraught at the loss of her adoptive mother and druid mentor, Cailee sought the community of a monastery located just outside of the sparse woods that she had considered her home. The monastery housed a few cloistered monk scholars who worshipped the Protector of the Forest, Lugh. The few monks agreed that Cailee was safer there than by herself and allowed her to stay, as long as she studied the history of this humanoid civilization and learn the teachings of Lugh. Cailee had no qualms about this and peaceably dedicated her life to study until she was old enough to truly venture on her own. 

Through learning history with the monk scholars, she discovered what other humanoids knew of Firbolg--namely about their secluded, somewhat mysterious nature. Slowly, she began to realize that inside her was a deep longing to go back to her home, reconnect with her family, anything to make her feel that she wasn't some sort of "other" who had only taken refuge rather than made her home there. After ten years, Cailee began to question her identity and personal history; she knew nothing of her birth home, nothing of her family, and couldn't even remember why she had to leave. When Cailee reached the age of 20, she decided that it was in her best interest to leave the monastery and to discover whatever she could dig up about her history, and set off searching for a group who might help her in this endeavor.

Cailee is most often perceived as stoic, or even timid. Cailee has the nature of a wallflower, watching and waiting for opportunities to help, and almost never jumping to conclusions. Unsurprisingly, she loves plants and animals, and loves amassing a wealth of knowledge about nature. Although generally comfortable with creeks, small rivers, and lakes, she gets a bit nervous around deeper and larger bodies of water, and likely won't try to swim if she can help it. Cailee prefers not to use piercing or slashing weapons, as it can feel overly brutal to break skin, and prefers to use bludgeoning weapons if hand-to-hand combat is necessary.

The Fishmonger family had lived in a small castle town for generations, earning their living in the trade for which they were named. Though never affluent, they never went hungry, and were known around town as a decent and law-abiding family. Ob was the fifth and youngest child. He charmed the villagers, was popular among the other children, and was a dutiful and obedient son to his father. 

Ob respected his father, and obeyed when invited to come along to come along to a monthly meeting of a local fisherman's club. He was confused to see his mother crying as they walked out the door, but his father assured him they were tears of joy: tonight would be a very important night for the entire family. The clubhouse was quite strange: it was a shack built on stilts in a hidden corner of the harbor, which could only be reached by boat. Its roof was only a tattered sail, which the fishermen removed at the beginning of their meeting to let in the light of the full moon. Its walls were covered with strange writing--no doubt the secrets of catching the finest fish. And there was a great big hole in the floor at the center of the room, over which a fishing net had been suspended by a line. 

The fishermen began their meeting, chanting and singing in a strange language. Ob watched until his father beckoned for him to come forward. He was directed to climb into the net, and Ob tried to do as he was told--but it was tricky. With his father's help, he clambered up an in; then, Ob's father, with one strong hand still holding Ob, drew his gutting knife. He sliced with a deft hand, and Ob watched in horror as his belly was been split open--from the base of his sternum down to his beltline. His head spun, and he stared in shock as his intestines begin to protrude for the terrible wound. Gasping, he grasped his belly and struggled to hold in his guts. He began to scream, but the fishermen cut the line from which the net hung suspended, and Ob plunged into the briney waters below. The weight of the net dragged him down into the cold, dark water; Ob kicked, and choked, and hugged his gaping belly tight--as a dark form moved through the water towards him.

Tentacles wrapped around his body, and though Ob wretched against the saltwater that filled his lungs, he did not drown. A dark will contacted his mind; an ancient, alien hunger. Ob could feel the great thing contemplating his fate; considering whether to eat him now or drag him back to its dark abode. Then there was a sense of surprise--a tentacle jabbed into Ob's wound. The Thing perceived something in Ob; Ob could feel bits and pieces of it thoughts. "Odd--surprising--suitable!--a host, a good host." An offer was made; death or service. Ob's mind raced, but one thought rose above all others--"I don't want to die." And so a deal was made. The creature disgorged a gelatinous sack, with a bundle of tentacles bundled motionless visible through its cloudy, membranous exterior, and plunged it into Ob's open guts. Ob felt himself losing consciousness, and slipped into a nightmare of a vast black abyss--deeper than the greatest depths, blacker than ink, and older than time itself.

The fishermen, having completed their sacrifice, toasted to the bountiful catch their ritual promised to deliver. Tomorrow would be a sad day for the village--another child drowned too young, tragically lost to the sea--but tonight, the fishermen would celebrate, for they had bought another few years of prosperity. Then, with a splash and a thud, their sacrifice--slick with mucous--was deposited back onto the floor of the shack. The fishermen fell silent; then one asked, "has it been rejected?" The eldest among them moved forward, and examined the body of the child curled up the floor; perceiving the healed wound, he said "the sacrifice has not been rejected; it is anointed." Ob regained consciousness, and the fishermen knelt before him.

Thenceforth, they treated him as something between a prisoner and a living God. They kept him in shacks or on ships, moving him at night, and allowing the rest of the village to believe he had drowned. Ob grew to hate his father and the cult, and he tried again and again to escape. But he was the anointed of a Great Old One, and the bearer of an immortal seed; the cult revered him, and could not harm him, but they also could not let him--vulnerable and precious as he was--escape their protection. In his darker moments, he began to hate himself for making the deal--for being too afraid to die.

And yet he still had hope, and he yearned to be free--and once he grew strong enough, he knew the cult could contain him no longer. Ob gained dark powers, dreaming the dreams of the immortal seed, and using its strength he killed several of the cultists who guarded him, stole a row boat, and escaped.

Now, Ob travels from place to place, seeking relief from the horrors of his past in pleasure, and from the weight of his conscience in good works. He greets strangers on the road with easy charm and good humor--even while the immortal seed of the Great Old one gestates within him, patiently awaiting the day of its birth. Ob doesn't know exactly how long that will take, but he hopes it will be a very long time--and he intends to make the most of it.

As the scion of a great house, whose blood was not only noble but also celestial, Alain bore the heavy burden of high expectations from the day of his birth. His family attempted to provide him with the best moral and religious instruction they could, in service of their lofty goals for the child, but the young Alain had little interest in theology, philosophy, or formal ethics. Though basically good-natured, Alain was impulsive, flighty, and frequently irreverent. 

His family feared that he was showing the corrupting influences of the court--and sent the adolescent Alain to the stricter and more somber environment of a monastery, where he was expected study without the distraction of courtiers' flattery and courtly merrymaking. Unfortunately, Alain charmed his instructors and impressed them so greatly with his natural aptitude for divine magic that they were entirely unable to be appropriately stern with the boy. While he remained well-liked, he grew into a reveler and a spendthrift, regularly sneaking out of the monastery and carousing in the local taverns with his family's money.

When Alain returned to the court, his parents realized that he had learned little at the monastery besides the art of flattering and manipulating monks. At their wits' end, they confronted Alain: he would have to leave their court. Having spurned his family's efforts to instruct him in the noble virtues, he would be obliged to learn them on his own. If he could return and prove himself worthy someday, then he could still inherit his family's titles. However, if he preferred to dissipate his family's wealth and honor in recreation, then they would find a more appropriate heir.

To avoid any premature loss of honor, and so that Alain would still be welcomed as a guest in other noble houses, they would tell noone outside of their most trusted advisers of this circumstance unless and until Alain embarrassed the family too severely for them to publicly sustain him as a prospective heir. But until he proved himself worthy, he could be no more than a guest in his own family's house.

With the threat of disinheritance hanging over him, Alain sets forth into the world; reluctantly, he seeks opportunities to prove himself to a family that he resents for failing to recognize his great potential. 

I grew up in a decent sized fishing tony along the coast of the Glimmering Sea. My father and uncles were all fishermen. I was raised on the docks, playing with rope and fishing poles and spending a lot of time on water. I spent my upbringing surrounded by upstanding community members; all the fishermen dedicated to helping each other and their customers to make a happy community on the water.

When I was young, my father brought me along on a fishing expedition as he often did. It started out as normal until the dark clouds started to roll in and quickly an unexpected violent storm had arrived upon them. I began to pray to the Powers That Be to get father’s boat home safely and in return I promised to help the innocent, good people. Looking back now, this contract was a bit naive. “Help innocent, good people” is so black and white. Since then, I’ve seen the world has more colors. In any case, The Gods answered by calming the waves and granting safe passageway on that day on the Sea.

Ever since then, I have been the hero of the Storm God, Prospero, helping my community and trying to stomp out evil. On my 20th birthday, Prospero spoke to me once again and asked me to prepare myself for a journey. On a far and distant island, an evil force named Caliban was plotting against Prospero. I was instructed to venture out from my home town and gather the strength in order to hunt and defeat the malicious Caliban. Prospero’s final instructions were to start my search at an ancient monastery near Thornwood. Funny... I was just thinking the other day about how I feel like I could be doing more. Maybe this is a start!

Pretty recently, Conrick began to come to the realization that, no matter how much effort he puts in, it will never be enough to end evil. There is always a more frightening threat to the community around the next corner. In which case, there had better be some good, honest to God, incorruptible heroes to scare the evil into submission. Conrick believes that Evil will always have the upper hand, but it is Conrick’s mission, and the people like him, to try to balance the scale put give Good People a fighting chance.

A turning point for Conrick was when his uncle Morris started to show his drinking problem. Conrick witnessed a strong, respectable man be turned hollow and realized that everybody was capable of giving in to their darkest temptations, even himself. The scale balance is active inside everyone, allowing good and bad in all people.

Okay, Lets give this a go.

Ability scores: 10, 12, 9, 13, 13, 15, 12, 

Name: Shayde Aggunak

Race: Air Gensai

Class: Monk (3) Way of the Shadow

Alignment: Neutral

Background: Urban Bounty Hunter

Backstory: 

 What does balance mean to Shayde?