Born into the elven village Ornthalas in an area of woodland at the base of the Eldur Mountains. The village is made up of approximately 180 inhabitants, all known to each other. We are not a religious people, but we believe in honoring the earth and protecting its resources. We use only what we need.

Personality traits: Optimistic, honest, conscientious, focused, deliberate, timid, adaptable, forgiving, easily irritated, non-confrontational, nurturing, empathetic, courteous, cultured, modest, shy, evasive, mysterious, down to earth, expects a lot from others and self, willing to share, willing to suffer for something believe in, acts on what is practical in moment, seeks to be an esteemed member of group.

Reluctant to open my eyes for fear that whoever or whatever had struck me would still be there. I listened first with my ears, I heard no elven song, no voices, no whispers, no quiet steps on the earth. I could hear my breath, the rustle of the trees, and the discontent in the chirping of the birds. It was then that I realized those I loved and cared for were injured or gone. It was apparent, I had been lucky to survive whatever had happened. My head pounding, eyes squinting, the light flooding in, despite my attempts to keep it out. Slowly, I sat up and pulled the brush that lay on top of me off. The village was empty. Recognizable trinkets and belongings were strewn through the dirt and our houses broken to pieces. Plants and trees broken, vegetables and herbs uprooted, and animals that had once found safety and peace within our village were absent and based on theirs tracks had left in a hurry. We had worked so hard to build and maintain. We had always been a happy people.

An intense sadness washed over me as I realized that life as I had always known was no longer. Why would anyone seek to destroy it? “Father!” “Father are you here? Are you okay?” I could hear a muffled groan without identifiable words. I found him under a broken wooden table within the kitchen of our simple home we had built together. He was pinned with both thighs beneath the weight of the heavy solid wood. A spear pierced through the center of his chest, and it was immediately clear that he was badly injured. I knelt at his side and then placed a kiss on his cheek. I could taste my own tears. “Father, No!” “Aww my child, my only child, I was so blessed to have such a beautiful and skillful daughter.” “An unfortunate turn of events….I am glad you’re okay”. “Take what I have taught you and seek to find balance and peace within this world and help others find it too.” He pulled his hand out of his coat pocket and placed in my hand a small book made of twine and bark. And with that he exhaled and an empty shadow replaced the light that had once filled his eyes. I nestled myself in the crook of his arm and began to sob. I laid there for what felt like hours. I’m really not sure…somehow I had lost track of time. Quite possibly, I may have even fallen asleep. I felt drained and completely lost. There was no one else around. All of the villagers had fled or had died trying. My comfortable home, the village I had lived in since birth, no longer felt like home. I felt a sense of panic and lack of belonging and reluctantly decided I too must leave. Why had he stayed? Why was I still alive and mostly unharmed except a gash on the back of my head and a couple of scrapes and bruises? Who or what had done this?

I rummaged the village and through the homes of friends. I took only what I would need in a backpack. Clothing, food, water, and of course my bow and plenty of arrows. Those that I had grown with wouldn’t be needing it.

I didn’t know what I would find, but I knew it was time to leave….there was nothing left for me here. No siblings, my grandparents dead of age, my mother died during my birth, and now my people and my father were gone.

So many wonderful memories here. 118 years I have been here since the day I was born. It’s hard to imagine what life would be like anywhere else. I have heard stories of other peoples and villages similar and very different from my own. Stories told to me by Lowb, the hermit who lived 4 doors down. He was unlike most elves in that he was short and round and somewhat loud. He seemed to take a liking to me from the start. He didn’t visit much with others in the village, but I would bring him fresh talo berries in the spring and summer months and kalpnut squash in the fall and winter. I visited him several times a week. It wasn’t long before he began to teach me his understanding of healing and herbs. He had many books on the subject and he let me borrow whatever I was interested in. At first, my father was angry when he learned of my lessons from Lowb. He didn’t want me to neglect my lessons in archery and leather work. Sad to say now, but growing up, I always felt like my father wanted a son instead. He pushed me and expected me to be skilled in his ways, and I was, although I never saw until now that they might be useful. I made my father proud over the years and in time he eased up. He knew that I felt a natural affinity for healing and longed to seek knowledge of these things he knew nothing of. Lowb let me borrow books that he had acquired in his travels when he was younger. I taught myself and practiced. I spent a lot of time alone in the forest, which I found best for thinking and learning and practicing my skills. I often thought of what my Mother was like before I was born. I wished that I had known her, but Father didn’t speak of her much, and when he did, I could see his eyes well with tears and a soft smile touch the corners of his lips and then, predictably, he often resorted to quiet time alone. I understand that need for quiet and time alone, more for the reason that I have often found others irritating. I prefer to observe and listen, to eavesdrop and spy when others are unaware as they tend to give information more freely then.

Only my father and Lowb knew of my interest in such things. I have longed for others to know, to help those in pain or need, but father and Lowb cautioned me that those in the village wouldn’t understand. In my village there was no such thing as class distinction, but we all clearly had defined roles and talents. We worked for the good of the earth and the happiness of each other. My father was always well liked and respected among those in our village. He was known to be a hard worker and skilled in leatherwork and archery. I have always felt a need to uphold that for him. I didn’t want to create controversy or misunderstanding._

After the events in the last few days…to see the earth and trees and plants in such destruction….<heavy>…it has had an effect on me. The loss of my beloved Father, to see him lying there bleeding and hurt controlling his breath. I want to find out what happened. I want to do what I can to make things right and help bring balance back to the earth. Admittedly, a bit scared, and extremely saddened by my recent losses, I’m excited to venture for the first time beyond the boundaries of our village. Maybe, it’s possible my gifts will be recognized and accepted and of some use to those I encounter.

Was called upon to help heal a badly wounded Jadel, where she was introduced to the party. She told her story of woe to our heroes and recruited them to help her investigate what became of her home.

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  Amalia Siannodel

  Level 12 Fury

  Karma Points