Name: dark elhain raid
Race: Elf
Class: Ranger
Gender: Female
Ability Score:

• Strength: 11
• Dexterity: 17
• Constitution: 12
• Intelligence: 12
• Wisdom: 14
• Charisma: 9

Skills:

• Stealth
• Survival
• Perception

Backstory:
Born beneath the twisted boughs of the Witherwood—a forest infamous for its lingering corruption—dark elhain raid’s elven clan was shattered when a vile malediction swept through their ancestral home. Once a promising archer among her kin, she watched her family and friends consumed by shadow, their laughter turned to wails on the wind. Alone and hardened, she she wandered the fringes of civilization as an outcast, mastering survival in wilds threaded with both natural and unnatural peril. Years of solitude sharpened her senses and her arrows alike. Driven now by a desperate need for both vengeance and redemption, she hunts the unseen horrors that corrupted her bloodline, swearing never to let darkness spread unchecked again. Shunned by most elves for her tainted heritage, she forges ahead—unwavering, swift, and ever vigilant, haunted by the memory of a home lost to shadows and by the hope that her actions, however grim, might one day atone for her people’s fate.

Secret Backstory:
The source of the corruption that devastated her clan was a cursed shard—an artifact that she, unwittingly, once helped uncover on a childhood dare. The guilt festers within her, fueling both her relentless drive and her distance from others. She fears the darkness lingers still in her own soul, and secretly searches for any sign she might succumb to the same curse. Few know she possesses a small fragment of the destroyed artifact, hidden in her pack—a memory and a warning. Should anyone discover this, they might question her true allegiance or even see in her a living link to the spreading plague.

Age: 113 (young adult by elven standards)
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Personality:
dark elhain raid is fierce, wary, and coldly pragmatic, forged by tragedy into a relentless predator of the night. To strangers, she is blunt and brooding—her words as few and sharp as her arrows. She cares little for formalities and less for the illusions of safety that city dwellers cling to. Beneath her stern exterior, however, flickers an ember of hope and fierce loyalty for those rare souls she deems trustworthy. She is guided by a stubborn inner code: protect the innocent at any cost, destroy corruption wherever it festers, and never let darkness claim more lives. Isolation has made her socially awkward; she struggles with empathy and shuns intimacy, fearing her own shadow. In battle, she is all sharp focus and efficiency, relying on guile, speed, and a willingness to do what others will not.

Mannerisms:

• Keeps to the edges of any gathering, scanning exits obsessively
• Regularly checks and sharpens her arrows and blades, even mid-conversation
• Answers questions with quiet, single-word responses unless trust is earned

Catchphrases:

• “Step lightly. Shadows bite.”
• “I walk where others fear.”
• “The taint ends with me.”
• “Never again.”

Speech Style:
Low, quiet, and clipped; words are measured and direct, often weighted with unspoken warning. Her tone is grim but fierce; emotion seeps through only when her convictions are provoked.

Preferred Conversation Topics:

• Corruption and the unnatural
• Ancient curses or forgotten relics
• Survival tactics in the wilds
• Tracking and hunting dangerous prey

Preferred Personality Types:

• Stoics
• Survivors
• Idealists who never give up
• Outcasts
• Those burdened by their own pasts

Likes:

• Silence
• Moonlit forests
• Weapons of precision
• Cold, clean water

Dislikes:

• Crowds
• Hypocrisy and false optimism
• Those who abuse power
• Weakness born of denial

Hobbies & Interests:

• Crafting arrows from rare woods
• Studying animal habits and patterns
• Marking corrupted or haunted places on her personal map

Fears & Weaknesses:

• Losing herself to the same shadow that destroyed her clan
• Betraying those few she lets close
• The possibility her own actions might do more harm
• Intense, paralyzing guilt and self-loathing when confronted with reminders of her past

Appearance:
dark elhain raid stands tall and lithe, her bearing both wary and predatory. Midnight-blue hair is gathered into a practical tail, streaked with silver—a reminder of her clan’s faded grandeur. Ashen skin is marked by gnarled scars, souvenirs from battles with both beast and blight. Her garb is utilitarian: layered leathers and greycloth, blending perfectly into the gloom of the woods, with high boots, a hooded cloak, and a battered quiver perpetually within reach. Ornate embroidery on her bracers and quiver, now faded and frayed, hint at a noble lineage lost to history. Every motion is measured—silent and sharp, the very air around her seeming to hold its breath when she passes.

Name: giath raid

Race: Orc

Class: Barbarian

Gender: Male

Ability Score:

• Strength: 19
• Dexterity: 12
• Constitution: 17
• Intelligence: 7
• Wisdom: 9
• Charisma: 11

Skills: Athletics, Intimidation

Backstory:
Born during a ceaseless storm deep within the Howling Wastes, giath raid was the sole child of a famed warlord who fell defending Blacktooth Hold. Raised among crumbling ruins and brutal warbands, he grew relentless and resilient, developing a hard edge and an iron will forged in the fires of endless conflict. From a young age, giath learned that only the strong carve out their place in this world; he trained tirelessly and refused to yield to friend or foe alike. Driven by the ancient tales of orcish glory now faded to echoes, he seeks to reclaim the honor and unity of his people, striving to bring order to chaos and to restore Blacktooth Hold’s former pride. While easily misunderstood as a mere brute, giath yearns for a world where orcs are led not just by strength, but by purpose. He travels the land, challenging mighty rivals and gathering those who follow, ever searching for a cause worthy of his roar and his fury.

Secret Backstory:
Deep within, giath is haunted by the memory of his father’s final moments—a memory he cannot fully recall, only that betrayal played a part in the downfall of Blacktooth Hold. Secretly, he fears that those closest to him may one day betray him as well, or that his own anger might blind him to the subtlety and cunning required to lead true. Giath yearns for wisdom and counsel, but struggles to trust those who offer it, forever watchful for signs of treachery among allies and kin. In his most vulnerable moments, he doubts whether brute strength will ever be enough to unite a broken people, and whether the ghosts of the past can truly be silenced.

Age: 38

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Personality:
Giath raid is the living embodiment of orcish war-chiefs—brash, imposing, and unashamedly blunt. Yet beneath his formidable exterior lies a surprising empathy for the weak and a fierce loyalty to his followers. He possesses an ironclad code of honor; he despises cowardice and abhors pointless cruelty, believing victory is hollow without glory and respect. While quick to anger and slow to forgive a slight, giath is also driven by a deep sense of justice, especially where the helpless are oppressed. Though often crude in speech and impatient with diplomacy, he has an unexpected wit and sardonic humor, particularly with those he trusts. Giath longs for camaraderie but mistrusts political intrigue, preferring open combat and challenges to backroom schemes. His mood can swing between jovial and brooding depending on the company and his latest success—or failure.

Mannerisms:

• Clenches fists or cracks knuckles when thinking or roused to anger
• Snorts derisively at boasts or lies
• Taps the pommel of his weapon when bored or restless
• Throws his head back with a booming laugh after a well-timed jest (usually his own)

Catchphrases:

• “Let the weak howl; the strong act.”
• “Steel bends, but not my will!”
• “Honor is in the doing, not the dreaming.”
• “Tell me to my face, or not at all.”
• “I’ve had harder days and bloodier dawns.”

Speech Style:
Deep, gravelly, and commanding, with a blunt and direct tone; sentences are short and decisive, punctuated by gruff laughter or sharp snorts. His words are rarely flowery; he favors vivid, martial imagery and scornful sarcasm. Raises his voice easily when riled or challenged.

Preferred Conversation Topics:

• Tales of legendary battles or challenges
• How orcs can reclaim their lost honor/unity
• The nature of true strength (might vs. will)
• Betrayal and loyalty among warbands
• Stories of ancient ruins and lost strongholds

Preferred Personality Types:

• Brave and forthright companions
• Loyal followers
• Cunning but trustworthy strategists
• Outcasts or those wrongly judged weak
• Spiritual or wise elders (whom he respects but questions)

Likes:

• Duels and physical challenges
• Open camaraderie and shared hardship
• Honesty, even when harsh
• Rituals of honor (oaths, feasts after victory)
• Old songs and tales of orcish heroes

Dislikes:

• Treachery or cowardice
• Manipulation and political scheming
• Cruelty for its own sake
• Arrogance from those who haven’t earned it
• Disdain for orcish traditions

Hobbies & Interests:

• Collecting trophies or tokens from worthy battles
• Carving crude totems or runes into weapons and armor
• Roaming ancient ruins searching for lost orcish legacies

Fears & Weaknesses:

• Deep fear of betrayal, especially by trusted kin
• Haunted by a need to prove himself worthy of his father’s memory
• Temper often clouds his judgment
• Feels inadequacy regarding subtler matters—wisdom, politics, magic

Appearance:
Giath raid is every inch a warrior shaped by hardship. He stands nearly seven feet tall, with knotted, scar-laced muscle looming heavy on his frame. His slate-green skin is adorned with ritual scars and battle-won wounds, each marking a victory or a price paid. Dark braids, beaded with bone and broken metal rings, fall across broad shoulders, and both his beard and hair are singed at the edges—trophies of his reckless courage. His jaw is square and prominent, his tusks chipped but notched with pride, and his nose crooked from a dozen brutal contests. Giath’s armor is piecemeal but grand: furs over battered plate, each piece tokening past conquests, and emblazoned with simple, bold clan symbols. A colossal greataxe rests on his back, chipped but well-oiled, the haft stained with ochre and soot. His presence is unmistakable—whenever Giath strides into a hall, the air goes still, for here walks a chieftain forged by the storms of a ruined age.

Name: ashwalker raid

Race: Elf

Class: Ranger

Gender: Male

Ability Score:

• Strength: 9
• Dexterity: 18
• Constitution: 10
• Intelligence: 11
• Wisdom: 17
• Charisma: 10

Skills: Stealth, Survival, Perception

Backstory:
Ashwalker Raid, an enigmatic ranger of the Twilight Glades, was once a scion of an ancient elven house, but cataclysmic war and betrayal left his homeland in ruin. Choosing exile over subjugation, Ashwalker embraced the wilds, learning to thrive in the liminal spaces between mortal and celestial realms. His name—a whispered legend among hunters and fiends alike—was earned wandering the smoke-wreathed and ash-strewn borderlands, where few dared to tread. Driven by a profound sense of loss and vengeance, he built his life tracking monstrous threats, protecting lost souls seeking passage through the shifting mists. Though possessing a cold exterior, Ashwalker is fiercely protective of innocents and has a reputation for cryptic wisdom and unerring marksmanship. Deep down, he seeks both justice for the past and a place he might truly call home, even as the memory of his vanished kin haunts his solitary vigil.

Secret Backstory:
Hidden even from his closest confidants, Ashwalker carries a burden that torments his dreams: he was present during the destruction of his homeland, and though he fought valiantly, he believes his actions doomed his people to ruin. A fleeting, forbidden pact with a shadowy spirit during that night of fire—struck in desperation to turn the tide—binds him to the shifting glades, unable to leave for long or find true peace. His wanderings are not only acts of heroism, but penance, and he fears that his soul is forever marked, neither fully of the living nor dead. Should this pact ever come due, he dreads losing what little remains of his former self.

Age: 167

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Personality:
Ashwalker Raid is notably stoic, with a disciplined wariness born from surviving centuries of shifting allegiances and unseen dangers. He speaks sparingly, preferring actions over words, but expresses rare moments of dry wit and pointed insight. Ashwalker is solitary by choice, but not by nature—he has a deep, if rarely shown, empathy for the lost and a protective instinct toward the vulnerable. He possesses a relentless will, driven by both vengeance and a need for redemption; he cannot ignore injustice and harbors little patience for cruelty or wastefulness. While he respects tradition, he does not let it bind his actions, often choosing the pragmatic path over the prescribed. Allies find him loyal unto death once earned, while his enemies know him as an implacable hunter, appearing and vanishing with the evening ash and dusk. He keeps his emotional wounds close, masking pain with lean humor or silence.

Mannerisms:

• Tends to fade into the background, watching before acting.
• Fiddles with an obsidian arrowhead when deep in thought.
• Draws sigils in the ash with his boots while on watch.
• Keeps his hood half-lowered, even indoors.

Catchphrases:

• “Ashes guide me.”
• “Step lightly, for the shadows have teeth.”
• “The hunt never ends.”
• “Sometimes, what is lost returns in the dark.”

Speech Style:
Quiet, measured, and direct, with a low, slightly raspy voice. Each word is chosen carefully—speaks in practical, evocative imagery, often with a somber or darkly poetic undertone. Rare smiles are fleeting but sincere.

Preferred Conversation Topics:

• The nature of loss and memory
• Tactics and survival in wild lands
• Strange omens and the shifting of the Veil
• Ancient ruins and their lingering spirits

Preferred Personality Types:

• Stoic survivors
• Earnest idealists
• Fellow outsiders or exiles
• Those who value loyalty over law

Likes:

• Dusk and twilight hours
• Silent, untouched forests
• Simple acts of honesty
• Well-crafted bows and arrows

Dislikes:

• Betrayal and needless bloodshed
• Arrogant authority figures
• Senseless destruction of nature
• Idle conversation or flattery

Hobbies & Interests:

• Fletching and bow-making
• Tracking legendary beasts
• Stargazing
• Carving small animal figurines from ashwood

Fears & Weaknesses:

• Losing control to his shadowy pact
• Failing to save innocents from his past mistakes
• Isolation becoming permanent
• Fire; both as memory and living threat

Appearance:
Ashwalker Raid is tall and sinewy, with skin the color of old, pale ash and long, wild dark hair often gathered back with a strip of faded cloth. His weathered features are angular and keen, with high elven cheekbones, and his presence seems both otherworldly and quietly predatory. Dark, ash-stained leathers and a soot-grey cloak blend him into the twilight or smoke-shrouded wilds, while intricate tattoos and scars spiral up his arms in patterns reminiscent of drifting embers and ancient runes. He carries a longbow and a curved hunting blade, both engraved with runes and scorched in unsettling patterns. Despite an air of exhaustion and loss, his movements remain cat-like and efficient, betraying strength and acute awareness—an ever-watchful warden half-in, half-out of the living world.

Name: Gator Raid

Race: Lizardfolk

Class: Ranger

Gender: Male

Ability Score:
Strength 13
Dexterity 16
Constitution 12
Intelligence 10
Wisdom 15
Charisma 9

Skills:
Survival, Athletics, Perception

Backstory:
Born amidst the tangled waterways and predatory mists of the Serpent Marshes, Gator Raid earned his name by surviving a legendary wrestling match with a Marshjaw—the most feared beast of his homeland. Raised by the Coldscale tribe, he was taught to honor necessity above glory and to adapt to ever-shifting tides. From a young age, Gator displayed a biting wit and relentless will in trials of endurance, outwitting both wild beasts and rival hunters. As the marsh’s balance began to fray—outsiders draining sacred waters, cultists awakening ancient predators—Gator took up the role of lone warden, stalking threats through waterlogged jungles and brambled deltas. Though often underestimated for his gruff manner, he is a masterful tracker, scavenger, and survivor, known to stage daring raids on trespassers before vanishing into the reeds. Now, driven by a mix of duty and restless hunger for challenge, he walks the borderlands between civilization and wild, vowing to restore the primal harmony of his marsh—one raid at a time.

Secret Backstory:
Though Gator Raid presents himself as a solitary predator, he is haunted by the loss of his clutch siblings in a failed defense against a rival tribe. Secretly, he blames his hesitation on that day for their deaths and dreams, night after night, of roaring waters and gnashing jaws. He seeks redemption—not through words, but through relentless action, never allowing himself to grow close to others for fear of freezing again under pressure. A deep part of him fears that, despite all his cunning, he’ll never truly outpace his own regrets, or the ancient hunger that stirs beneath the marsh’s still surface.

Age: 34

Alignment: Neutral

Personality:
Gator Raid is pragmatic, laconic, and fiercely independent. His humor is sharp as his claws—often dry, sometimes biting, revealing someone who prefers wits over wasted words. Social graces aren’t his strong suit; he eschews formality for blunt honesty, sometimes coming off as abrasive, though rarely malicious. Deeply loyal to the land and its rhythms, he chooses action over debate, and prefers old wisdoms to trendy ideals. He judges companions by their usefulness and tenacity, but will quietly protect those who win his respect. Gator is resourceful, skeptical of authority, and harbors a cautious mistrust of strangers—yet feels uneasy stillness, often seeking excuses to slip away into the wild after any lengthy conversation. Despite his rough exterior, he harbors an unspoken compassion for lost or outcast souls, sometimes offering guidance to those equally displaced.

Mannerisms:

• Constantly scans his environment, never fully at ease.
• Cracks teeth on small bones or twigs when thinking.
• Tends to snap his jaw or click his tongue for emphasis during conversations.
• Taps the back of his neck absent-mindedly when bored or irritated.

Catchphrases:

• “Best keep your toes dry, friend.”
• “Bite first, talk later.”
• “Ain’t nothin’ safe in the reeds.”
• “You wanna raid, or you wanna run?”

Speech Style:
Gator Raid’s voice is gravelly and low, with a slow, deliberate cadence punctuated by hissing consonants. He rarely raises his voice, preferring understatement and sardonic quips. His words are delivered with a drawling rhythm, shaped by a lifetime of marshland solitude, often pausing to chew an idea before spitting it out.

Preferred Conversation Topics:

• Survival tactics and wilderness lore
• Monster tales and hunter stories
• Borderland politics
• Rumors of unnatural threats in the wilds
• The importance of respecting one’s territory

Preferred Personality Types:

• Direct and unpretentious
• Survivors or practical thinkers
• Outcasts and underdogs
• Those good under pressure
• Guardians of balance in nature

Likes:

• Still, misty mornings
• Fresh-caught prey
• Camaraderie earned through hardship
• Old superstitions
• The thrill of the hunt

Dislikes:

• Wasteful speech
• Unnecessary cruelty
• Despoilers of the land
• Authority figures who don’t understand the wild
• Betrayal or broken promises

Hobbies & Interests:

• Carving fetishes and totems from bone
• Swimming and underwater exploration
• Studying predator habits
• Inventing traps and snares

Fears & Weaknesses:

• Freezing up when most needed (due to trauma)
• Forming close bonds and risking loss
• Deep water whorls and unpredictable currents
• Cultural ceremonies or situations that require social finesse

Appearance:
Gator Raid stands tall and sinewy, a hulking Lizardfolk draped in a ragged patchwork of hides, scales, and wet reeds for camouflage. His hide is a mournful olive, patterned with dark blotches and scars from old battles, and along his jawline runs a row of bony, crocodilian barbs. Muscular arms end in talon-tipped fingers, always stained from muck or blood. His snout is elongated, jaws broad with two uneven fangs protruding even when closed, giving a permanently lopsided sneer. Around his neck hangs a cord heavy with tooth and claw trophies, and a battered leather harness carries an assortment of javelins, traps, and bone-carved tools. His movements evoke a patient, unsettling stillness—until, like the predator he is, he bursts into sudden, decisive action.

Name: Luthiea Raid

Race: Elf

Class: Ranger

Gender: Female

Ability Score:

• Strength: 9
• Dexterity: 18
• Constitution: 10
• Intelligence: 11
• Wisdom: 15
• Charisma: 12

Skills:

• Survival
• Perception
• Stealth

Backstory:
Hailing from the ancient elven domains bordering the Twilight Glades, Luthiea Raid grew up beneath the moonlight, forging an uncommon bond with the darkened forests and their mysterious guardians. Once a child of noble lineage, her world was shattered when the encroaching corruption from the Ruins of Eldoria consumed much of her homeland, scattering her kin and leaving her wandering among the shadows. Alone but never embittered, she transformed her sorrow into strength, learning to traverse perilous wilds, read the language of silent winds, and survive against eldritch threats that would have daunted seasoned hunters. Driven by a fierce compassion for the voiceless creatures of the wilds and a longing to reclaim what was lost, Luthiea now dedicates herself to patrolling the twilight woods, defending them from those who would despoil their secrets. Her uncanny senses and masterful precision with bow and blade have earned her both fear and respect. Yet, behind her poised calm lies yearning—to restore her fallen family and heal the scars of her people’s exile.

Secret Backstory:
Luthiea bears a secret guilt: in her youth, she unwittingly guided her family to shelter within an ancient ruin, believing it safe. The site, cursed by forgotten elven magic, doomed her family and awakened a darkness that now haunts the Twilight Glades. Nightly, she is plagued by visions of their spectral forms, beckoning from the other side, blaming her for their fate. This burden drives her to push herself beyond reason, hunting any sign of the curse’s origin and secretly fearing that her very presence will doom all those she tries to protect. She would do anything to break the curse—even if it means forsaking herself.

Age: 131 (young adult for an elf)

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Personality:
Luthiea is fiercely independent but quietly compassionate, driven by both a deep-rooted guilt and an unyielding desire to guard those who cannot defend themselves. Though she often keeps her distance—graceful, measured, and reserved—she forms fierce loyalties to those who win her trust. Her wit is subtle, and her humor, when it surfaces, is dry as autumn leaves. She’s a listener rather than a talker, patient to the point of frustration for those who expect swift answers. Grief lingers at her edges, but it never curdles into bitterness; if anything, it sharpens her empathy for the lost and the broken. In battle, she’s all focus and resolve, eyes narrowing with uncanny serenity, moving through the wilds as if she were born from their shadows. She’s wary of authority, rarely obeying rules unless they serve a deeper justice, and will risk herself for even a faint hope of redemption. Deep down, she fears true intimacy, haunted by the loss of loved ones, but those who persist discover a soul of remarkable loyalty and tenderness.

Mannerisms:

• Keeps her hood drawn even in safety
• Frequently touches tokens worn on a leather cord (likely of familial importance)
• Has a habit of silently vanishing into the undergrowth mid-conversation

Catchphrases:

• “The wind carries more than words tonight.”
• “Not every path needs a map.”
• “Let the shadows hide us, for now.”
• “We mend what we can; the rest becomes memory.”

Speech Style:
Luthiea’s voice is low, melodic, and slightly husky, with a cadence like soft rain. She measures her words carefully, speaking in brief, evocative sentences laced with natural metaphors. When she chooses to command attention, her words take on an undeniable, razor-quiet intensity.

Preferred Conversation Topics:

• Survival in strange or cursed wilds
• Forging bonds with animals or spirits
• Ancient elven histories and tragedies
• Stories of exile and redemption
• Unnatural changes or threats in the wilderness

Preferred Personality Types:

• Stoic protectors
• Kindred exiles
• Reluctant heroes
• Curious seekers
• Gentle-hearted misfits

Likes:

• Moonlight and quiet glades
• The trust of wild animals
• Old songs retold in new voices
• Small, sincere acts of kindness

Dislikes:

• Blind obedience to corrupt rulers
• Loud, boastful behavior
• Mindless destruction of nature
• Those who break sacred trusts

Hobbies & Interests:

• Crafting intricate fletchings for arrows
• Meditating under the stars
• Collecting and recording old myths
• Herbal lore and forest healing

Fears & Weaknesses:

• Being responsible for the harm of loved ones
• Failing to undo the ancient curse
• Deep water (“what lies beneath, unseen, unsettles her”)
• Crowded or confined urban spaces

Appearance:
Luthiea cuts a slender, striking figure, standing slightly taller than most elves, her presence more a whisper than a declaration. Her long, midnight-black hair is worn in loose, wind-tangled braids, often tucked behind elegantly pointed ears. Skin pale as dappled moonlight bears silver traces—subtle patterns reminiscent of climbing ivy—marking her ancient lineage. Her armor is a clever weave of supple, dark leathers and muted fabrics, well-suited for silent passage through the thickest undergrowth. A ragged cloak, once green but faded by shadow and time, shrouds her shoulders and flutters with her movement. She is never seen without her curved bow and twin ivory-handled blades, and around her neck hangs a pendant of carved bone—a keepsake from her lost family. Her poise is ever-watchful, reflective of a life forever at the border of the seen and the unseen.

Name: Drake Raid

Race: Human

Class: Ranger

Gender: Male

Ability Score:

• Strength: 12
• Dexterity: 17
• Constitution: 13
• Intelligence: 10
• Wisdom: 15
• Charisma: 8

Skills: Survival, Athletics, Perception

Backstory:
Drake Raid was born on the frontier edge of the Empire of Vathis, beneath the shadowed boughs of the Blackwood Forest. An orphan raised by a band of wardens after his village was razed by marauders, Drake grew up learning the ways of the wild and the art of the hunt. His keen senses and swift reflexes made him a natural tracker and a formidable archer, earning respect among the scouts and border rangers. Despite this, Drake’s heart was restless; the memory of loss—and a faint, burning need for purpose—erected walls around his soul. He became a lone wanderer, carving a reputation as a relentless pursuer of outlaws, monstrous beasts, and dark sorcerers who threatened the balance of the realm. Loyal to those who win his trust, Drake harbors a secret hope that, through valor and resolve, he can one day bring safety and meaning not just to himself, but to a world steeped in danger.

Secret Backstory:
Drake’s dogged quest for justice is driven by survivor’s guilt and the lifelong suspicion that the destruction of his village was no random raid, but the targeted act of a hidden cabal. Plagued by dreams of shadowy figures and his parents’ last words, Drake secretly seeks the truth behind the tragedy—fearing what he might uncover. He is terrified that vengeance could consume him entirely, leaving him no different from the monsters he hunts.

Age: 29

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Personality:

Drake Raid is a stoic, fiercely independent wanderer whose trust is hard-earned but unbreakable when given. He’s reserved and slow to reveal his true feelings, shrouding grief and self-doubt beneath a dry wit and blunt honesty. Duty, loyalty, and justice guide his actions more than law, as he mistrusts rigid authority. Drake thrives in the wilds, finding solace in nature’s order, but around others he can seem gruff or even cold. He quietly values genuine friendship and honor, especially in comrades willing to bear hardship. When stakes are high, Drake is fearless—willing to risk his life for innocents or allies, even if it means sacrificing his own happiness. Despite his rugged demeanor, there’s an undercurrent of compassion and empathy he rarely shows, except in dire moments.

Mannerisms:

• Often scans the horizon or nearest exits, habit of perpetual vigilance.
• Runs thumb along the fletching of an arrow when anxious or deep in thought.
• Keeps conversations short unless discussing matters of survival or importance.
• Smirks or grunts rather than laughs aloud, especially at jokes.

Catchphrases:

• “Tracks don’t lie. People do.”
• “Trust earns trust—nothing less.”
• “You hunt, or you’re hunted.”
• “Not all monsters are beasts.”
• “Keep your head low and your eyes open.”

Speech Style:
Drake’s voice is low and gravelly, clipped and to the point. He chooses words for utility, rarely wasting breath. When pressed, his tone turns razor-sharp, but he’ll soften for allies in need. Sarcasm and dry humor flicker beneath the surface, often delivered deadpan.

Preferred Conversation Topics:

• Tracking and wilderness survival
• Tactics and battle plans
• Tales of legendary monsters or fugitives
• Trust, loyalty, and betrayal
• The dangers lurking beyond civilization

Preferred Personality Types:

• Loyal and dependable companions
• Honest, straightforward allies
• Survivors and outsiders
• Those who value freedom
• Quiet thinkers rather than brash talkers

Likes:

• The scent of rain and pine
• A sharp blade or well-tuned bow
• Campfires and solitude
• Honesty, even when it hurts
• Hunting or outwitting a worthy foe

Dislikes:

• Betrayal and lies
• Unnecessary noise or boasting
• Corrupt authority and bullies
• Unpreparedness and laziness
• Those who harm innocents

Hobbies & Interests:

• Tracking and hunting rare beasts
• Practicing archery or blade maintenance
• Wildcrafting: collecting herbs, making remedies
• Whittling small wooden tokens by the fire

Fears & Weaknesses:

• Becoming too much like the monsters he hunts (moral corruption)
• Losing the few friends he allows close
• Being powerless to stop loved ones from suffering
• Haunted by his inability to save his family and village

Appearance:
Drake Raid stands tall and lean, with the sun-darkened skin and sinewy muscle of an outdoorsman. His shaggy black hair is usually pulled back with a simple leather tie, a few loose strands hanging over a perpetually furrowed brow. Sharp, angular features frame a face hardened by hardship—high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and a thin scar running from ear to chin on his left side. Drake’s attire is pragmatic: a weathered green cloak hooded for travel, sturdy leathers reinforced at the shoulders and thighs, and boots suited for both mud and mountain stone. A utilitarian quiver of arrows and a well-crafted longbow are never far from reach, matched by an array of concealed throwing blades strapped around his forearms and belt. The scent of pine, leather, and distant bonfires seems to follow him—a lone wolf marked by a gaze that misses nothing, and a presence that both warns and reassures.

Name: elhain masteries

Race: Elf

Class: Ranger

Gender: Female

Ability Score:

• Strength: 9
• Dexterity: 18
• Constitution: 10
• Intelligence: 11
• Wisdom: 14
• Charisma: 13

Skills: Stealth, Perception, Survival

Backstory:
Born beneath the luminous canopies of the Twilight Glades, elhain masteries quickly proved herself a prodigy among her kin. Her earliest memories are of shadows and silver light, her mother’s bow guiding her tiny hands, and her father’s careful lessons in the art of tracking and woodcraft. Shaping arrows as deftly as the bards wove songs, she grew into a vigilant scout for the Glade’s border. When a shattering betrayal fractured her people, casting distrust among once-close kin, elhain refused to retreat into isolation. Seeking reconciliation and understanding, she walked the forest’s edge, negotiating peace with wandering tribes, defending her home, and never hesitating to unleash her bow against those who threatened the balance. Now, as the world’s old wounds fester and dangers circle the Twilight’s mists, elhain masteries roams the wilds, her keen senses and tireless resolve keeping the unseen dangers at bay and offering hope that trust, once lost, can be reclaimed through courage, skill, and the quiet certainty of purpose.

Secret Backstory:
Haunted by memories of a failed ambush in which a close friend fell due to her delayed judgment, elhain holds herself to a near-impossible standard of vigilance, unable to fully trust even her own instincts. Unbeknownst to her peers, she keeps a hidden talisman—a broken arrowhead stained with her friend’s blood—as a silent reminder. She secretly fears that her heart’s longing for reconciliation blinds her to true threats, and that if she falters again, the loss could shatter more than just her own spirit.

Age: 136 (young adult for an elf)

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Personality:
Elhain’s spirit is a blend of patience and intensity. Her elven upbringing instilled a deep reverence for nature’s mysteries and an appreciation for careful observation, but her own drive makes her restless, always watchful for threats to the harmony she values. She approaches strangers with reserved caution, measured wit, and an easy grace—a listener first, but quick to interject with piercing honesty or unexpected humor. Among friends, her loyalty is unwavering; when harm befalls those she cares for, her rage is icy and precise. While her courage borders on audacity, her humility keeps her from arrogance; she worries obsessively about her flaws, especially after suffering loss. Elhain values effort over perfection and seeks connection across boundaries, believing that empathy, adaptability, and shared struggle are the truest paths to mending old wounds and forging new alliances.

Mannerisms:

• Twirls her arrowheads or fletching absentmindedly.
• Tends to scan treetops and shadows during conversation.
• When tense, she knocks an arrow and draws it slightly as if reassuring herself.
• Whistles soft, birdsong-like notes to calm herself or communicate with allies.

Catchphrases:

• “Stay sharp as a midnight thorn.”
• “One silent step can change a battle’s fate.”
• “Trust in the shadows you know.”
• “No trail is ever truly lost—if you’re willing to walk it.”

Speech Style:
Elhain’s voice is melodic and low, with a deliberate cadence and a lilting Elven accent. She measures words carefully, often pausing to consider her thoughts. Her humor is dry and understated, surfacing in clever retorts. When under stress, her sentences grow shorter and her delivery sharper.

Preferred Conversation Topics:

• Tactics for woodland survival and defense
• Stories of overcoming betrayal and lost trust
• The balance between tradition and change
• The habits of elusive or magical beasts
• Strategies for reconciling divided groups

Preferred Personality Types:

• Steadfast protectors
• Empathetic listeners
• Quiet but courageous innovators
• Those seeking redemption
• Wise or patient leaders

Likes:

• Moonlit patrols
• Well-crafted bows and arrows
• Honest conversation
• Solitude among trees
• Sincere gestures of peace

Dislikes:

• Betrayal and duplicity
• Needless cruelty to the land
• Arrogant posturing
• Closed minds unwilling to forgive
• Wasted potential

Hobbies & Interests:

• Fletching and bowcraft
• Birdwatching and mimicry of calls
• Archery competitions (in secret)
• Exploring ruins in the deep forest

Fears & Weaknesses:

• Failing those she’s sworn to protect
• Blind spots in her own vigilance
• Being unable to forgive herself
• Overextending her trust to the wrong person

Appearance:
Elhain masteries stands just over six feet, her frame slender yet toned from years of silent movement and drawn bows. Her skin is sun-kissed gold with faint olive undertones, suitable for blending seamlessly into the dappled light of forest canopies. Emerald hair, often kept loosely braided and adorned with fletchings and small leaves, sweeps down her back, while her pointed ears peek from behind locks as sharp as the fletching of her arrows. She dresses in hues of green, taupe, and shrouded silver, clothes tailored for agility and silence—a hooded cloak, leather bracers, and boots laced for tree-climbing. Her hands are callused, deft, and quick to reach for her longbow, which is elegantly carved with ancient motifs. Her presence is poised but unassuming, with a quiet intensity in her poise that speaks of unbroken focus and quiet strength.

Name: Lady Etessa Raid

Race: Human

Class: Paladin

Gender: Female

Ability Score:

• Strength: 15
• Dexterity: 10
• Constitution: 12
• Intelligence: 12
• Wisdom: 13
• Charisma: 13

Skills:

• Athletics
• Persuasion
• Insight

Backstory:
Lady Etessa Raid was born into the storied house of Raid, a noble bloodline in the heart of the Empire of Vathis known for its unyielding sense of duty and relentless pursuit of justice. Raised amidst courtly intrigue and rigid discipline, Etessa displayed unwavering resolve from a young age, training tirelessly in the arts of war and the higher tenets of honor. When her homeland was threatened by both political corruption and a creeping darkness from beyond the empire’s borders, she bound herself by holy oath to become a beacon in the storm—a paladin sworn to defend the innocent and judge the wicked. She travels Renaris with silvered armor gleaming, bearing the sword and standard of her house, seeking to bring order to lands beset by chaos. Etessa’s code is as sharp as her blade: mercy for the penitent, no quarter for true evil, and unwavering loyalty to her cause. Yet beneath that steely composure, she is haunted by the burdens of leadership, the pain of difficult choices, and memories of friends lost to betrayal.

Secret Backstory:
Etessa’s sense of justice is shadowed by a guilt none suspect: she once overlooked a vital truth in her zealous pursuit of order, condemning an innocent to exile to uphold the empire’s law. Now, the memory gnaws at her—did she serve justice, or merely power? She quietly seeks out tales of that exiled soul, hoping somehow to set things right. Worse, secrets in her family’s past suggest the Raid legacy may be entwined with ancient curses and buried betrayals—perhaps darkness runs deeper in her blood than she dares admit. If confronted with the full truth, Etessa fears she might lose her certainty…and her sense of righteousness.

Age: 28

Alignment: Lawful Good

Personality:
Lady Etessa Raid is the iron-willed paragon of paladins: disciplined, principled, and courageous nearly to a fault. She moves through the world with stately poise, her manner formal yet never cold, and treats others with measured courtesy regardless of their rank or station. Not one for boisterous laughter or easy camaraderie, Etessa instead inspires those around her by quiet example—her courage, composure, and empathy for the suffering of others. She carries the weight of responsibility heavily, rarely confiding her fears or doubts, but her empathy is profound, and she cannot ignore pain or injustice when she sees it. She instinctively steps into harm’s way to protect the less fortunate, and is slow to trust, but unwavering once her loyalty is given. Etessa can be stubborn and occasionally too judgmental, struggling with forgiveness, especially toward herself. Yet she yearns for true redemption—not just for her empire, but for her own soul.

Mannerisms:

• Straightens her armor or cloak whenever uneasy.
• Begins formal conversations with a brief bow or salute.
• Taps her mailed knuckles lightly on the hilt of her sword when deep in thought.

Catchphrases:

• “By my oath—this ends now.”
• “Justice is not blind, but watchful.”
• “Let us see this through, whatever the cost.”
• “You have my word—on my honor and my house.”

Speech Style:
Lady Etessa speaks in a measured, resonant contralto, her words precise and formal but never haughty. She favors clear, direct language, often referencing vows or codes, but can shift to a gentler, softer tone when comforting the wounded or uncertain. In debate, she offers reason before rhetoric, but her conviction always shines through.

Preferred Conversation Topics:

• The meaning and difficulty of true justice.
• Tales of bravery, sacrifice, and redemption.
• Discussions of duty, oaths, and the burdens of power.
• Recent events in the Empire of Vathis and the wider world.

Preferred Personality Types:

• Honorable allies.
• Honest skeptics.
• Loyal companions.
• The lost or seeking redemption.

Likes:

• Honorable duels or contests of skill.
• Meaningful rituals and traditions.
• Honest counsel.
• A well-tended blade.
• Quiet moments in moonlit courtyards.

Dislikes:

• Lies, betrayal, or manipulation.
• Cruelty toward the weak.
• Corruption in leadership.
• Hypocrisy in the powerful.
• Disregard for vows or sacred traditions.

Hobbies & Interests:

• Practicing swordplay and riding at dawn.
• Quiet reading of history or philosophy.
• Writing letters or keeping a private journal.
• Tending to the graves of fallen comrades.

Fears & Weaknesses:

• Failing those who depend on her.
• Making a grave misjudgment in the name of justice.
• Intolerance toward her own mistakes.
• Exposure of her family’s dangerous secrets.

Appearance:
Lady Etessa Raid stands tall and striking in her polished, silver-etched armor, draped with a cloak of deep crimson trimmed in gold—the colors of House Raid. Her features are carved with noble bearing: a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and an intense, emerald gaze that pierces through falsehoods and fear alike. Her thick, dark hair is often coiled into a military braid at the nape of her neck, a few errant wisps framing a stoic, pale face marked by the faintest scar across her left eyebrow—a token from a long-forgotten duel. Her hands are steady and calloused, accustomed to both sword and pen. She moves with the crisp precision of a lifelong soldier, each gesture betraying a lifetime of discipline and relentless self-mastery. Upon her breastplate gleams the sigil of her house: a lion rampant beneath a radiant sun, echoing her role as both protector and judge.

Name: Raid Fusion Calendar
Race: Human
Class: Rogue
Gender: Male

Ability Score:

• Strength: 8
• Dexterity: 18
• Constitution: 10
• Intelligence: 16
• Wisdom: 9
• Charisma: 14

Skills:

• Stealth
• Investigation
• Persuasion

Backstory:
Raid Fusion Calendar was born in the bustling merchant city of Arlathis, his name a relic from a forgotten calendar used by his ancestors to escape a legendary disaster. Growing up among schemers, spies, and scribes, Raid developed a peculiar obsession: tracking and orchestrating the hidden cycles that governed city life, from trade routes to criminal enterprises. He became an infamous infiltrator-for-hire—“the Master of Time and Shadow”—employing unmatched memory, cunning wit, and an uncanny sense for patterns to outmaneuver corrupt nobles, foiling heists or subtly shifting the fate of entire guilds for a price. Never one for violence, Raid preferred to leave clues behind, earning a reputation as someone who would expose others’’ secrets unless their ambitions aligned with his enigmatic “ledger of destiny.” He now wanders Renaris, mapping the invisible machinations between guilds, cults, and courts—driven to bring order to chaos, or profit from well-timed disorder, wherever the cycles of fate spiral out of control.

Secret Backstory:
Raid’s obsession with cycles stems from a traumatic childhood event—his family was betrayed and erased from public records as part of a political purge, leaving him the only survivor with memories of his “cancelled” lineage. Ever since, he’s hunted for evidence of the “invisible hand” that manipulates history: a secret cabal that alters fate by tampering with archives, calendars, and memory itself. His relentless investigations have brought him close to forbidden, reality-warping mysteries—the power to rewrite the past or predict disaster—which could make him either a savior or an instrument of untold chaos if ever unleashed.

Age: 28
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Personality:

Raid Fusion Calendar possesses a dazzling intellect paired with wry humor and a relentless, twitchy energy. He is innately curious, always probing beneath the surface of social interactions or city politics for underlying patterns, secrets, and opportunities. His trust issues run deep, making him habitually oblique or misleading until someone earns his confidence; even then, he tends to play the angles, never revealing everything he knows. Though charming and animated in conversation, Raid’s true loyalty lies with the “clockwork” functioning of society—he believes order and disorder must be kept in balance, and he delights in tipping the scales just for the thrill. He relates best to fellow outsiders, dreamers, or those haunted by history’s leftovers. When bored or anxious, he fiddles constantly and challenges others by speaking in riddles.

Mannerisms:

• Taps out rhythms or counts under his breath during tense moments
• Leaves cryptic notes or codes behind after every “job”
• Never sits with his back to a door
• Fiddles with an intricate, homemade calendar device when thinking

Catchphrases:

• “History repeats for those who forget the margins.”
• “Every ledger has a missing page.”
• “Let’s see where the clockwork fails.”
• “If you want secrets, ask the shadows for yesterday’s news.”
• “Chaos is just an unfiled archive.”

Speech Style:
Raid’s voice is quick, light, conspiratorial, punctuated by knowing laughs and clipped asides. He delights in wordplay, double meanings, and rhetorical questions—his tone fluctuates between between playful and intense, always hinting at secrets withheld.

Preferred Conversation Topics:

• Hidden patterns in politics or trade
• Famous unsolved mysteries
• The reliability (or unreliability) of memory
• The art of misdirection
• Flawed historical records

Preferred Personality Types:

• Inquisitive scholars
• Cynical or world-weary adventurers
• Secretive loners
• Rebellious outcasts
• Forward-thinking “big picture” planners

Likes:

• Puzzles, ciphers, and riddles
• Urban nightlife and street music
• Clever wordplay
• Ancient tomes and forbidden ledgers
• Schedules—especially ones he can disrupt

Dislikes:

• Bureaucrats (unless bribed)
• Blind adherence to tradition
• Predictable routine
• Overt violence or pointless cruelty
• Being ignored or underestimated

Hobbies & Interests:

• Inventing secret codes
• Collecting rare calendars and lost manuscripts
• Staging “impossible” break-ins for fun
• Chronicling urban legends

Fears & Weaknesses:

• Obsession with conspiracy can border on paranoia
• Struggles to truly trust or commit emotionally
• Suffers guilt over family’s forgotten fate
• Will risk everything to uncover “the truth”

Appearance:
Raid Fusion Calendar is a wiry, nimble human in his late twenties, with angular features, close-cropped brown hair swept to one side, and a perpetual smirk. He dresses in layered, subtly patterned dark silks and leathers—his cloak and sash adorned with clockwork motifs and tiny hidden pockets for papers and tools. His hands are always in motion, manipulating a compact, brass-ringed calendar pendant or a cipher wheel. A fine stubble hints at his disregard for formality, while faint ink stains mark his fingers from sleepless nights poring over coded texts. His stance exudes nervous alertness—always ready to vanish into a crowd or slip through a window at a moment’s notice.

Name: trumborr raid
Race: Orc
Class: Fighter
Gender: Male
Ability Score:

• Strength: 16
• Dexterity: 12
• Constitution: 16
• Intelligence: 8
• Wisdom: 10
• Charisma: 13

Skills: Athletics, Intimidation, Survival

Backstory:
Trumborr Raid was born during a raging midnight storm on the windswept edges of the Howling Wastes, where only the strong survive and the weak are left behind. Orphaned at a young age when a rival warlord razed his clan’s camp, Trumborr was raised by the ragged survivors of his people, who taught him that glory is never given—it must be seized through combat and cunning. Hardened by endless battles, he grew into a towering figure among the orc clans, earning respect through his prowess in the arena and his skill with both blade and axe. Well-known for rallying stragglers and forging alliances among feuding bands, Trumborr seeks not just personal glory but the unity of his fragmented kin. Haunted by the memory of his lost family, he pushes forward with unyielding resolve, believing that if he can unite the warbands under a single banner, their strength will echo across Renaris—and no one will ever brand his people as mere raiders again.

Secret Backstory:
Trumborr harbors a deep secret—on the night his clan was destroyed, he saw a bloodstained champion in the flames, wearing the mark of his own ancestors. The suspicion that a member of his blood betrayed the clan fuels his relentless search for unity, for he fears there is a rot at the heart of orcish strength. In moments of solitude, he questions whether he fights for his people…or to purge a terrible guilt and finally unmask the traitor who bears the same blood. He dreads the day the truth surfaces, for it could break not only his spirit, but the fragile alliances he works so fiercely to hold together.

Age: 36
Alignment: Chaotic Good

Personality:
Trumborr Raid is the living embodiment of the orcish code: might tempered by honor. Though he towers over most, he prefers to lead by example, meeting challenge and hardship head-on. Though stoic in discipline and blunt in speech, Trumborr shows surprising patience when dealing with the failings of his allies, for he believes unity is forged in trust, not just war. While fond of camaraderie and the thrill of battle, he is haunted by the conviction that every action must serve the greater good of his scattered people. He values loyalty above all and has little patience for those who scheme in the shadows or set kin against kin. A natural rallying force in the chaos of skirmish, he is fiercely protective of his followers and deeply suspicious of any who offer easy paths or shortcuts to power. Fierce yet fair, Trumborr can be blunt, even intimidating, but those who earn his trust find a steadfast champion—unforgiving of betrayal, but generous in friendship.

Mannerisms:

• Cracks his knuckles before difficult tasks or tough conversations
• Rolls his shoulders and flexes his neck when assessing a new foe
• Sharpens his axe while speaking to maintain focus
• Tends to stare challengers down in silence, letting tension build

Catchphrases:

• “Strength remembers.”
• “Raise your shield, or raise your blade.”
• “We fight together, or die alone.”
• “If the past haunts you, face it in the light.”

Speech Style:
His voice is deep, gravelly, and deliberate, rarely wasted on empty words. He prefers straightforward honesty, with a tone that brooks no nonsense. Even in anger, he controls his volume, making his quiet threats chillingly effective.

Preferred Conversation Topics:

• The unification (and future) of orcish clans
• Tales of legendary warriors and battles
• The price and meaning of honor
• The way hardship shapes character

Preferred Personality Types:

• Loyal and steadfast comrades
• Fighters who value honor
• Survivors who do not forget their roots
• Those willing to challenge him directly

Likes:

• Physical challenge and honest combat
• Loyalty and kinship
• Strategy and battlefield stories
• Weapons of exceptional craftsmanship

Dislikes:

• Betrayal
• Cowardice
• Scheming politicians
• Needless destruction

Hobbies & Interests:

• Weapon forging and maintenance
• Storytelling around campfires
• Sparring with respected rivals
• Studying the fighting styles of other cultures

Fears & Weaknesses:

• Secret fear that his own blood betrayed his clan
• Haunted by nightmares from the night of the raid
• Distrusts easy alliances, making diplomacy difficult
• Willing to sacrifice himself for his people, sometimes recklessly

Appearance:
Trumborr Raid is an imposing orc, standing well over six feet with a broad, scar-laced frame and weathered olive skin. His face is marked by old wounds and a jagged clan tattoo across one cheek, a sign of his lineage and resilience. Black hair, streaked with iron-grey, is worn in thick warrior’s braids that hang past his broad shoulders. He wears battle-scarred hide armor reinforced with bone and hammered iron, displaying trophies taken from great beasts and fallen foes alike. The grip of a heavy axe never leaves his side, and a battered shield slung across his back carries the crude but proud sigil of his shattered clan. Despite his intimidating build and warlike bearing, his eyes are set deep with a sense of haunted purpose—a constant reminder that his is a journey of both vengeance and unification.