Name: Xaris Vhathei
Home/Location: Sharahan Hills
Birthplace: Wealdath Forest, in Tethyr
Race: Forest Gnome
Deity: Baervan WildWanderer
Xaris Vhathei had a wonderful upgringin in his home village. Loving parents, siblings, and an entire community of fellow gnomes who all got along wonderfully. His father served as a village defender, most of them wielding weapons of massive size such as greatclubs, swords, and axes. Well massive by gnome standards atleast. But they got the job done well. His small village of thirty or so gnomes was nestled snuggly deep, deep in the Wealdath Forest. They have been undiscovered for thousands of years, living peacefully by themselves. The only thing they needed to actually fight around here were the occasional animal, and the much hated forest goblins they shared the woods with. The goblins were dumb, witless, and all around pitiful creatures, but the only thing they had going for them was their press of numbers. They had hundreds of goblins in the forest, all breeding, eating, and sleeping all day long. But they were no match for the gnomes, who with their ancient druid clan leader with his mighty magic, and the village defenders al wielding weapons and armour would slaughter the goblins. They mostly only bothered the gnomes when they tried to steal or eat one, which then they remembered why the never succeed. The closest thing to a firend and ally the gnomes had were the wood elves who they regularly talked to and traded with, getting many of their steel items from them. Life was well for them all, Xaris's ancestors h aving settled in a quiet, shadowy desolate part of the woods. They would never be discovered it seemed, the only true thing to rip our their home would be war. And war there was. It took 2300 years, but the gnomes were finally rooted. One peaceful morning, when Xaris was hitting the age of 200, he was collecting mushrooms and nuts from the forest for their meal they were going to have. His father, Dhunul was out on a peaceful talk with some wood elves, who they were probably trading with. His mother Shei was cooking, and his brother and sister, Jheril and Asersie, were both playing in their small wooded home. It was just one of those perfect days. but when Dhunul had returned, he had grave news. he had called a council with the village elder, Yyreienl, and had spoken words that have not been said since the founding of the village. Humans were coming. If it was one thing that the gnomes did not want to meet, it was humans. Horrible rumors of their destructive power to tear down trees, clear forests, and drain rivers all had been heard, but never actually witnessed. And it was best kept that way. But it was to late now, the wood elves had spotted hundreds upon hundreds of humans marching into the woods three days ago. Apparantly the etnire country was feuding within itself. But that didnt really matter to the gnomes, until now. They only had a day left before they would arrive, and then no one knew what could happen. But, they just couldnt abandon their home, so they waited it out. At first, Yyreienl tried to mask the village with magic, but it was soon realized that the humans had magic users too, and to the humans surprise they had detected the gnomes using it. This only brought the humans closer to the gnomes. Sparked with curiousity, the humans honed in on the village, and is was Yyreienl who greeted them first. Only he knew how to speak their language, as he had the magic to do so. Also being 700 years old, he had some education of it. To everyones relief, the humans greeted them with respect, and with courtesy. All they wanted to know was about their opposition. When Yyreienl told them they knew nothing, the humans just left. This was a big event for them, as almost all of them had never seen a human ever before. but like a diseased animal, they brought plague in with them. A few days later, the village was in flames. It all happened in the middle of the night. When the least amount of gnomes were on watch. They were mercelessly killed, and then their homes began to burn. Within minutes, a dozen gnomes have died, most of the smoke, others by fire. The rest were in such a shock that they had no idea what was going on, and were being killed by the blades of the enemy. The only reason Xaris lived was becuase his father had awoken him, and hurried him out into the desolate woods. They lived on the edge of the village, and his father did not panick like others. He was to battle hardened to be in a fright. As Xarisleft home, he ran through the dark and tripped. In his excitement he had missed the dead body that lay now behind him. He got up and looked at it, its dark greeen flesh covered in warts and clothes reaking of urine. It was one of the forest goblins. Something had made them attack the village, something horrible and probably evil. Xaris could only run further, until the burning village was just a light in the distance. Now, he rested under the uprooted tree roots n ext to a stream. Exhausted, and choking on smoke, he quickly passed out. The next morning he woke, and immedietly remembered the night before. He wished it was all a dream, but knew it was the reality. He did not want to go back, but he had to. Once he had gotten to the edge of the clearing, he could see the remenince of his home. All the buidlings were charred and burned to the ground, save one building in the middle. At the far end of the village he could see the goblins, dead. All of them with stab wounds and arrows in them. He walked over to the bodies, and pulled out an arrow. The arrows tip was finely made, manufactured by a skilled worker. This couldnt of been one of theirs, and it wsnt the elves; They used thinner arrows, with a sleeker design. The bright feathered end and the wide steel tip could only mean it was human. He remembered seeing some on the humans as they came by. But those didnt have markings. This one did. It had a wierd insignia on the side of it, of what only could be a green dragon. He held onto it and then walked to the building that was left. He peered inside and instantly started to cry. He could see the remains of all the gnomes in the village. Fire ravaged skeletons, half eaten bodies....probably from the goblins, and bodies with large gashes left in them. A pile of things were in the corner, and he walked over shielding his eyes from the mass pile of corpses. It was the things from the small armoury they had. One greatsword, two great clubs, and a suit of magical studded leather armour. He took one of the greatswords, and instantly recognized it as his fathers. That sword was extra light, and sharper than any of the others. He took the armour, and then left the place. Nature will take hold of his fallen family, and renew them back into the forest, where they will always remain.. As for Xaris, he wandered into the woods with his three items, and for days walked aimlessly, easily living off of his skills in the woods. One night, he stumbled upon a small encampment of humans, five of them huddled around a fire. They were camping in the woods, and looked like soldiers to him, maybe the same ones he had seen that night. he decided to stick near and listen to what they had to say. For hours he sat, and listened to their conversation, anger filling him with every moment. They were talking about how they had talked with the goblins after killing many of them, and asked them about the enemy that they were looking for. The goblins said they didnt know anything, except that gnomes were near by, and that they were bad. They also said how they had stopped by the gnomes, and asked them the same thing. Then they didnt mention anything else. Xaris was fueled with rage. He couldnt stand hearing about his family being talked about by a bunch of humans, and he knew that these people must of done it. They must of killed his family. They needed to die. He waited until one seperated, and ambushed him. Quickly he died, and the others were alarmed at the sounds. But they were to drunk to realize to get up and run, and were soon cut down by the enraged gnome. When Xaris was done killing the humans, he finally looked upon them. These humans were not wearing the same uniform that the humans who tricked him wore. He killed innocent people. He took lives that had nothing to do with his families deaths, and now he was no more good than the murderers. Something snapped inside him, and he delved deeper into the Wealdath forest, living there for a decade, alone and with his three items he had gotten from that one night, long long ago. After a decade had passed, something happened that would change his life again; only for the better. One day, Xaris was skirting the edge of the woods when he heard a distinct sound of battle. Like clockwork the sounds of the slaughter of his people flew through his head, and he ran as quickly as he could to that sound, hoping to catch whatever was making it. When he made it their, seven men stood. FIve of them clashing with two more. He instantly recognized the uniform of the five as the ones who had killed his family, and the other two wore the uniform of the people he had killed. He drew his sword and charged into battle. Quickly he killed two of the men, and heavily wounded another before the even knew what hit them. Stunned for the moment, the remaing three men were cut down by the three of them, and the two men sheathed their swords. They thanked Xaris, who almost said absolutely nothing except for a your welcome, and he ran back into the woods. A feeling of euphoria engulfed him, as if a tiny piece of guilt had been chipped off, saving the comrades of the men he had killed, while striking down the ones who had killed his family. This is when Xaris came to a conclusion. He must leave the woods, and venture forth, looking for things to finally rid his of this horrid guilt. So off he went, wandering for two years eastward for the starspire mountains, heading south along the river sulduskoon, and stopping for the first time at a city called Zazesspur. he spent a few days there, then headed out again, stopping at Myratama, then finally heading north, ending up in Sundren.
- Carries around a broken arrow, sometimes staring into it for many minutes before finally putting it away.