The Long and Winding Road
Eupraxia the Maggot
Terror of the skies, graceful in all ways except social
((EDITOR’S NOTE: Eupraxia’s Character Sheet))
Alignment: The moral politics of landwalkers continue to elude me. (True Neutral)
Race: In the event that the large wings protruding from my back did not make this apparent, I am of the Strix peoples.
Class: I hunt. (Hunter)
Height: 5’8". Height scarcely matters when one can fly, however.
Weight: 165 lbs. Weight scarcely matters when one is as graceful as a fresh spring breeze.
Languages: I am fluent in the native tongue of my people (Strix). My grasp of the Common language should also be self-evident, and in addition, I have some knowledge of Auran dialects.
Proficiencies: The apparatus of my body is tuned to kill. Death is the ultimate end toward which all paths lead.
Equipment: What is carried is what is needed: The weapon by which I kill, the clothes on my back and… various accoutrements.
Strength: My physical prowess is sufficient enough to carry my equipment. To rely excessively on brute force though, is a symptom of internal weakness. (10)
Dexterity: Take solace in the fact that should I ever find ample cause to kill you, you may never have to watch yourself die. (24)
Constitution: If an aggressor is able to catch me, then I shall bask in the glory of death. (12)
Intelligence: Great clarity may be derived from tasting fresh entrails. (14)
Wisdom: Knowledge of the earth is etched into my bones. Wordless wisdom can be divined from water and mud, from stone and blood. The voiceless vision emanates from the womb of the sky. (16)
Charisma: Landwalkers avoid my gaze. I am content to live outside of their absurd societies. (2)
- Fresh blood
- Warmly harvested organs
- Herbal tea
- Wasted meat
- Sand between my toes (it is unpleasant and gritty)
- Skinning animals
- Making longbows
What I do in my spare time:
Currently, I am observing human society in the city of Albemarle while offering my services as a hunter and tanner to its citizens and merchants. While the landwalkers give me many of their precious coins for my work, I have had difficulty in studying their habits. Despite my learned understanding of the Common language, they appear to be reluctant to engage me for reasons I cannot ascertain. Recently however, I have heard rumors of adventurers in Albemarle who won the local hunt. Serendipitously, I encountered a pair from the group, Catherine (a human) and Keidraan (who appears to be of the Sylph people), and now I am accompanying their cohorts (a kobold, a kitsune, and a tengu and his draconic companion) in their adventures. Only time will tell what I can learn from these unusual people.
Entry No. 1
Our first voyage brought us several days east of Albemarle, where we discovered the temple of the great tiger Amatsu in the midst of an enchanted forest. A vile necromancer situated their headquarters within the temple, but this arrangement did not last while I had anything to say about it. My newfound compatriots and I brought the villain to heel and tore him asunder, marking the location to all others of like ambitions that their operations would no longer be allowed to sully the temple. In the process of the siege, we released countless dozens of sycophantic creatures into the Conduit. I can also feel my horizons beginning to expand on the machinations of dungeoneers, and of larger society. Perhaps in subsequent journeys, I will find the answers that I seek. From here, our group will be taking our leave of Albemarle and venturing further north to the city of Marigold.
Entry No. 2
As it so happens, I was to learn of the skittish nature of the Landwalkers immediately upon departing from Albemarle. A loathsomely self-righteous woman accosted our traveling group for the sake of informing me that I had apparently alarmed the denizens of the city the previous evening. Their delicacies were spoiled and their people uninformative and obstinate, and yet I was somehow to blame for this. To her credit, she appeared understanding of my defense, with Catherine helpfully intervening on my behalf to ensure that I did not miscommunicate.
I can now at least appreciate the extensive reputation given to the city of Marigold, which is equal parts fascinating and contemptible. We passed uneventfully through a fortress town populated with an alarmingly passive citizenry which had been erected by our resident imperialist hobgoblin. To pass from that locale to our current whereabouts provides one with a stark contrast of scenery. As I write this, I am admiring flocks of my distant cousins, who I am told constitute Marigold’s law enforcement.
Despite the presence of such powerful defenders of the city, I have discovered an infestation of perverse, intractable spirits denying sustenance to The Conduit. Not only do Marigold’s citizens seem content to allow these beings to remain within their city, but some appear to actively use them as bait. A group (“gang” seems to be the proper parlance) referring to themselves as “Ragnaroky” met with our group after we entered territory within the city claimed as their own. While Keidraan describes gangs such as these as “families”, I see no such resemblance. Their entire existence lacks purpose beyond futile posturing, and none of their activities or structures are of a subsistent nature.
The leader of Ragnaroky still intended to levy an equivalent exchange for the intrusion upon their territory. For engaging in a search for our missing vulpine companion, Ragnaroky’s leader asked us to “investigate” a site near their base of operations. We would quickly find that this investigation was a thinly-veiled trap in retaliation for our perceived offense. Upon our escape, I reconvened with Oliver and the gnoll companion assigned to us by Ragnaroky, Raklen, whereupon we returned to the leader of Ragnaroky to deliver our response. Unsurprisingly, after a brief skirmish, the leader revealed himself to be a walking dead incognito. Subsequently, I exacted retribution upon this profane being for his impertinence. Thankfully, Marigold is abundant with resources for endeavoring parties such as myself, and in the past day, I had afforded myself the liberty of purchasing a new bow. The craftsmen of Marigold are remarkably adept, and were able to provide me with a weapon specially engineered against those in undeath. To my further surprise, in the middle of the confrontation, Raklen seized my quiver and enchanted the arrows within, warding them against evil.
In my furor, I have neglected to explain precisely why the confrontation with Ragnaroky occurred. As I alluded to previously, Vaunders disappeared the previous evening, our pursuit of whom brought us within the self-declared province of Ragnaroky. Many confounding details surround her unanticipated flight, and I have witnessed firsthand that this party has courted powers of overwhelming force. Crucially, Vaunders’ disappearance has directly led to our meeting an alleged associate of hers, a person by the name of Reagan Faye deCloet. Her involvement in both Ragnaroky’s assignment to us and our ensuing deliverance of their leader permitted me to observe her in combat. Reagan’s abilities (and to a certain degree, Raklen’s) raise many questions for me. I may be allowed to confront matters that I have been otherwise distracted from in recent months. I have been lackadaisical in my pursuits, and I fear that perhaps I have allowed too much time to pass.