not really familiar with pathfinder or Golarion,  i started in Greyhawk in what is now called 1st edition i guess,  then long pause until 5e, so any assistance with place names for backstory would be appreciated :)- in the wiki now so work in progress lol

N’ruel Qalrustran was strong from the beginning. His mother, Shri’garu, had told him that he was the only of his siblings to have survived the birth. She had always told him that when she slayed his siblings in her womb, that it had given her such a rush of ecstasy that she knew the survivor was destined for great things. As the eldest son of a minor noble house, allied to House Misraria, he devoted the first part of his life to serving the Matron Priestess of Nocticula. This honor of service was something of a family tradition by the firstborns for each generation, going back for centuries. However, such position is highly coveted by other male drow, making all who are seeking such position natural enemies.

Upon the day of the first trials to into the service of the Matron, he was deemed unworthy – likely some seed of doubt with planted within the Matron by one of his rivals. Typically, this would have marked the end of his life, but that sense of survival that N’ruel had from conception allowed him to barely escape the city with his life. The weight of failing this test had nearly crushed him, as his sense of purpose had been taken from him. After making his way out of the Darklands he wandered for months.

One day, in his struggle to just survive and find food, brought him to the Monastery of the Seven Forms in the Southern Range of the World’s Edge Mountains. Hesitant to take a drow in, the masters realized that this creature appeared to no longer display the typical ruthlessness of the race. No longer having a purpose in life, he found this place to be where he could remake himself and strengthen his mind and body. He has spent the better part of four years in training, and his masters have sent him out to allow him to seek further understanding of what he lost as well as to seek out information on the encroaching winter.

Krakan towers above other humanoids at nearly 8 feet tall. Blue tattoos dance around his face, and highlight is pale, white eyes. His voice is deep, and his body is dotted with scars of past scuffles. 

Tall and slender, at 5'7" and 110lb, Rynle tends to draw a fair share of attention. Although small in the bust and lacking much in the way of feminine curves, she is fit and toned. Thick dark blonde hair falls to below her shoulder-blades, with shorter bits to frame her face, and is sun bleached from long hours on the deck of a ship. She'll often leave it out, but is also adept at several quick-and-deliberately-messy buns and twists. That time aboard ship has also given her a light but embedded tan, though her natural skin tone is quite a creamy colour - few will ever learn this, though, since the only evidence is tan lines hidden by her clothing.

Her face is angular, with high cheekbones and a small, straight nose and full rosey lips. Her eyes are dark brown, large and wide-set under strong straight brows.

By choice, she dresses in sailor gear - breeches, boots, a battered tricorn hat and loose fitting shirts in natural colours are her choice for day wear. She'll dress up on occasion, however, and possesses a number of exquisite formal dresses she inherited from her mother or that her father has purchased since - though she'll also go for formal, stylishly cut breeches-and-long-vest combinations from time to time.

Her voice is a rich alto, able to go from demure and polite to warningly defencive within seconds. She usually speaks like a high-bred lady – something about her mother's training apparently stuck – but when in a bad mood, or when she lets her guard down, she slips into a more casual, occasionally shockingly rude way of speaking. No matter what her tone, though, her voice is always slightly accented, seemingly picked up from her mother.

'Spirited' is the word that will - diplomatically - be tossed up most often in relation to Rynle - the tone may vary (admiration, despair, exasperation), but no one will disagree that it's an apt description.  Headstrong, impetuous and vastly independent, Rynle has little patience for the more traditional notions of what does - and more importantly does not - constitute "proper" behaviour for a young lady. Not that she's opposed to refined behaviour in a general sense; she's just not going to let those expectations stand in her way, or define what she can or can't do.

She knows what she wants and she'll pursue it stubbornly until she has it - or until it is clear that she never will; a point that, for her, will almost always come some time after most others would have given up, stubborness and a certain bullheadedness trampling roughshod over her usual pragmatism when it comes to her own limits. Depending on how much she wanted it, being forced to abandon her goal may turn her mood dark, and she'll be defensive and catty until she's gotten over it. Luckily, this rarely takes more than a day or so - a good thing for both her and those around her since her acidic and often sarcastic tongue can easily land her in trouble.

Rynle will not take kindly to being relegated to the sidelines, preferring to be in the thick of things. Preferably not just what's currently going on - she'll want to be in on the planning as well. She'll have great difficulty dealing with any sort of strict or military leadership of the 'when i say jump, you say how high' sort -- and likely won't be able to restrain herself for long. Not that it wasn't expected that orders and rules be followed on board the ship, but it wasn't unquestioning obedience; there was a certain amount of room allowed for questions and objections, and she'll find it hard to adjust to not having that buffer.

Proud and a touch vain, Rynle enjoys attention - as long as it's positive. She wants respect - not necessarily the kind that is given to a leader (though she posses a natural charisma and strength of will that may lead her in that direction), but the more normal respect for others' opinions, feelings and ability. If she doesn't get it, she'll swing into defensive mode, ready with a snarling tongue-lashing for anyone who dares cast aspersions against her. She'll usually try and consider her words before she says them, but rile her up and she won't bother. She'll hate apologising more than almost anything else - after all, it involves admitting that she was wrong, and according to her, she's never wrong.

Determined, competent and imbued with natural charisma (and an inability to tolerate stupidity in others), Rynle will automatically gravitate towards a command position in any group without a pre-determined ranking system. Even if there is a ranking system, she's likely to end up taking charge anyway. She won't mean to, it's just that she'll see some better way to get things and she'll just go for it... and next thing she knows, she's divvying up the assignment among the group and making sure no one's slacking off. There's a certain imperious air she has that tends to quell arguments on the matter before they start.

An adventurer at heart, Rynle fears very little and shows fear even less. Supremely confident in both her own abilities and in herself, she has little time or understanding for those who are ruled by their insecurities or fears. It's not heartlessness - far from it - so much as it is so wildly different from her own fierceness that she won't know how to deal with it or empathise. She'll sympathise, but she won't understand why they can't just get over it already, and she'll quickly grow impatient with the matter.

Rynle was born in Absalom, the first surviving child of a shopkeep and a Master Tailor. Andresta had suffered a few miscarriages prior to Rynle's birth, and so the doting following the birth of a child not just alive but in perfect health was perhaps to be expected.

Rynle's father continued to be indulgently doting as she grew older, but her mother quickly became exasperated with her daughter's wild and tom-boy ways. Andresta was highly aware that her mother had been a daughter of a Lord of before she left the life of nobility behind to marry a journeyman weaver for love instead. And Andresta wanted the highborn life she felt her mother had denied her - and she saw Rynle, with her marriageable looks, as her ticket into that world.

Thus, from an early age Rynle found herself corralled into lessons on lady-like behaviour, music, art, and the much-hated needlepoint by her mother. She quickly learned, however, that she could escape by hiding in her father's shop; Chestin was a good-natured sort, who doted on his daughter and found her impetuousness amusing. He indulgently hid her when Andresta came looking - and, when that failed, cheerfully blocking his wife and tutor's attempts to remove Rynle back to her lessons, claiming he needed his "best assistant'.

Chestin's store was a magical place, as far as young Rynle was concerned; not only was it full of all manner of interesting stuff, but the customers - sailors, wagoners, and traders for the most part - were  full of stories of far-off places. Golarion, as they painted it for the young girl, was full of adventures and stuff straight out of a Bard's tale. The rest of Golarion, Rynle quickly decided, was far more interesting than boring old Absalom, where nothing interesting ever happened - no swordfights, no daring heroics, nothing worthy of a tale (at least, that she ever saw). Everything actually interesting was happening out in the rest of Golarion, and Rynle quickly became determined to see it, scandalising her mother with her insistence that she was going to become a Sailor.

When Rynle was eight, Andresta managed to carry a child past the initial risky first trimester for the first time since Rynle. The excitement in the house was palpable, but in the end the boy was stillborn. Andresta took to bed  a few months, leaving Chestin to look after Rynle on his own. Not really understanding what had happened, besides the non-appearance of the brother-or-sister she'd been promised, Rynle thought this was wonderful. Chestin muddled through, and Andresta eventually recovered enough both emotionally and physically to get out of bed and return to work, but the incident left its mark on her.

Much less inclined to tolerate her daughter's rebellions against her plans now that she had been forced to confront the fact that she was unlikely to have any more children, Andresta cracked down. Rynle found it much harder to slip away - although Rynle had not realised it, Andresta had previously been given to a certain level of indulging her daughter's whims, if not to the same extent as Chestin.

At eleven, Rynle felt the first real, personal effects of the Plague that swept the city when her mother fell ill. Both Chestin and Andresta agreed that it was too risky for Rynle to see her mother, and after a few unsuccessful attempts to sneak in were foiled, Rynle reached out by throwing herself into the lessons her mother had set.

Andresta died a couple of months later and for a while Rynle buried her grief in determinedly applying herself to the lessons her mother had laid out. She couldn't maintain it forever, though, and while her father continued paying for the private tutors, Rynle started slipping back into her old habits of avoiding them by hanging around the store. An eventual compromise was reached; the needlework and music lessons were dropped, the more academic subjects remained. Rynle found this arrangement a lot more to her liking, and even found herself liking maths - possibly due to her good head for numbers, and the praise she thus accrued from the Harper teaching her. She still joined Chestin in the shop for the afternoons, but with the more aggravating of her classes removed, she no longer attempted to skive off.

Six years later, at seventeen, Rynle finally got her childhood wish, talking one of her father's oldest friends and customers into signing her onto his ship. Signed on board the Yellowfin, a passenger ship for hire, she quickly found it a far cry from what she had anticipated. While she hadn't been foolish enough to fully believe the romanticised tales she had grown up on - well, not once she grew up a little, anyway - she had had some expectations. And they weren't met; she spent the vast majority of her time scrubbing various parts of the deck, her almost entirely male crewmates were a lot rougher than she'd anticipated, and she hadn't quite realised how many amenities she took for granted until they weren't there.

She was determined, though, and absolutely refused to give up. After all, it might not be what she'd expected, but even if everything else was failing to live up to expectations, she was travelling and seeing Golarion (and like Hell was she going to admit she couldn't do it or hadn't understood what she was getting into). Which is not to say that she rolled over and accepted the rest, oh no - Rynle's stubborn streak came out to play there. She worked hard at her work until she managed to get off deck scrubbing duty, then worked hard until she conquered the next task in front of her, and the next, and the next…

While originally taken aback by the crudeness of her crewmates, Rynle quickly adapted, her biting wit and determination winning her a place among them. They quickly found that while she'd wade into innuendo-laden conversations quickly enough, directing that innuendo in her direction was a good way to end up the recipient of a sharp tongue-lashing. They were rough, yes, but they weren't bad men, and they quickly got the message - apart from the occasional teasing exchange.

Rynle's initial disappointment didn't last more than a few months, and once she'd carved out her own place among the crew and adapted to life on board, Rynle was in her element. She made Senior Apprentice at 18, and the new cabin boys on board learnt quickly to heed the piercing whistle she adopted (when it became clear she just was never going to be the bellowing type) or they'd feel the bite of her tongue. The ship went where it was hired to go, so the routes and destinations were almost always new and exciting. The older sailors were happy enough to spin tales, and rumours of another continent to the West made Rynle determined to investigate them, once she advanced enough to have her own ship. 

Two years later, another storm and a rocky section of coast off the coast of Taldor caused a great deal of damage to the ship, to the point where they had to be towed into Harbour. The Yellowfin wasn't going to be going anywhere for months with the amount of work her hull needed, and having no ship-building experience, Rynle had little to do -- and was going spare not doing it. Eventually, she grew frustrated enough to strike out on land - at least then she'd be seeing more of Golarion than her tiny tavern room. Some weeks of rough travel later, she ended up stumbling into Heldren, where she was forced to stop for a time to recover from a run in with bandits.

Black, dreadlocks almost fully covers a handsome worried face. Dancing gray eyes, set elegantly within their sockets.
Tribal marks in the form of 1 stripe above and 2 stripes below his right eye marks his ancestry.

Vyrn might have a good looking face, but almost no one outside of his family has seen it. He wears a full face mask and cloak whenever he is outside. Why? Because he is ashamed of his family's legacy. Seeing his face would immediately connect him to them, he assumes. Also so people cant see how nervous he is during conversation. 

Vyrn isnt the most intimidating, considering he is only 5'8 and 150 pounds. He is also pretty self conscious about his height.

Vyrn is always changing the color of his clothes. Currently, his cloak is a dirty white. Helps him blend in with the snow.He always has two hand axes on him. One strapped to his left, and one strapped to his right. You can always see his longbow on him. Never goes anywhere without it.  You also cant forget about his trusty crossbow that he always keeps strapped onto his pack.

Portait

Vyrn was born inside a cabin in the woods to two humans. For reasons unknown,they left him there shortly after birth. Fortunately there were two elves nearby who heard the cries of a baby. By the end of that day, Vyrn was adopted by an amazing pair of elves who lived in the Empire of Taldor. Specifically, the southern farming village of Heldren. Of course, the people of the village dont know this. 

Their names were Amaranthae Heihorn Falconsight and  Aerendyl Chaemaris Falconsight. Amaranthe was a sorcerer wile Aerndyl was a ranger. Two of the greatest in their craft.

With a mix of being the middle child, and not having friends, Vyrn spent his off time studying the arcane and hunting for food. From an early age, Vyrn learned how to track prey, defend himself, and kill. Some nights, he would have to fight others for the right to take home the kill. These skills would come to save Vyrn's life time and time again. Although He picked up the bow at an early age, he had more of a knack for the arcane. He would spend his off time studying scrolls or books that he would find out in the wild.

Using the skills that he learned over the years, Vyrn would travel around trying to be a vigilante. He would quickly put an arrow through the head or heart of whoever was perceived as an evil person. Of course, he would wait until one of them ran into the forest. Soon, he would be known around as the White Shadow.

Fearing the safety of his beloved parent, Vyrn has never told anyone about what he does.

 WIP

Runts parents was killed by a raving pack of orcs near the Worlds Edge Mountains when he was only an infant. When the orcs saw the wee halfling baby one of the orcs, a female shaman, convinced the others that they could raise the little boy to be a slave.

You might think that this is where the story takes a sudden turn and she took him in and raised him as one of their own, but that is for heroes tales only. Runt was raised to be just that, a glorified slave whose only purpose in life was to gather various herbs for the shaman who raised him. He hated the shaman and the rest of the tribe with all his heart, but took the beatings and verbal abuse through years of suffering. 

When he was 12 the tribe were attacked by the Taldan army and Runt was quick to play innocent and tell the soldiers about him being enslaved involuntarily. They took him back to the capital, but city life proved to much for a young boy lacking in both social skills and an understanding of basic society. So he e started wandering.

He ventured off from the capital and started his journeys towards the south. He survived by hunting and gathering, and after a few months he arrived at Heldren. He settled in a small cottage owned by a local farmer. Runt could stay in the cottage as long as he kept the surrounding wildlife from preying upon the livestock.

Runt rarely speaks to his "landlord", but is overall content with his work. He keeps predators from attacking livestock, and gets to wrestle a bear or a bobcat from time to time. All things considered, he gets to do what he likes, and no longer has anyone bullying and terrorising him.