Tales of Achar: PC: Jarid Wolfblade
Class: Ranger 4 / Sorcerer 1
From the journal of Jariid Wolfblade:
My father, Jordan Wolfblade, met the dwarf Crona Kaleth during the
Great War. Every war seems to be a "great war", but personally, I don't
see what's so great about any war. A pack of were-rats had descended on
Crona while he was injured. If not for Jordan and his army, Crona would
not be alive today. Crona owed my father a life-debt as his dwarven
honour dictated. But the bond grew to be much more. They had became
friends and brothers-in-arms. Both my father and Crona were fierce
fighters and both held honour as an ideal to an absurd level.
After the War, Crona and my father became bounty hunters - hunting
down criminals and monsters of all sorts. In some foolish way, both had
some misgivings about collecting rewards for doing what they considered
good deeds, but the necessity of living brought their high ideals to a
more earthly state.
The adventures of the human and the dwarf became tales told around
countless rounds of ales in taverns across the land. These tales grew
with each retelling until they took on a life of their own.
My mother, Arriana Illseilwood was one of few elves who were
pre-ordained to protect a magical elven relic in Vilyamar. To
prepare for this sacred task, the Chosen Ones had spent their entire
life studying the ways of magic.
Like all of the Chosen, Arriana was born with a special gift for
magic. She had the innate abilities, but lacked the discipline and the
desire to be a magic practitioner. But as a chosen, she had duties and
obligations. Since childhood, she had been forced to countless hours in
the. Locked away in ancient libraries while she longed to travel the
Land. But as fate would have it, she would be born and died in
Vilyamar. Despite her disdain for studies, she was a good student
and appreciated the nuances of magic.
Arriana was just traveling back to Vilyamar from studying in
one of several libraries when she was attacked by a pack of wild
animals. Jordan and Crona came dashing up and fought off the beasts not
knowing that Arriana was more than capable of defending herself.
Nevertheless, that was how my parents met.
Jordan and Crona accompanied Arriana back to Vilyamar, and
Jordan decided to stay. After Jordan and Arriana wedded, Crona left and
returned to his Dwarven home, Zâraminbar (Lockhorne).
These events were told to me by Crona, for I have no memory of my
father. He died while I was still too young to remember anything. All
that I carried of his legacy is the family sword, which has a wolf head
carved in the hilt. The Wolfblade as it was called had been in the
family for generations. It's a masterwork sword, but has no magical
The elves had never liked the decision that one of the Chosen had
decided to marry a human. But when Arriana talked of leaving
Vilyamar to travel with my father, the elves were in an uproar.
Never in history has a Chosen abandoned her responsibilities.
The circumstances surrounding my father's death were fuzzy. But when
some magical beasts attacked Vilyamar one night, my father died
defending a crowd. Where these beasts came from and why they attacked
remained a mystery that was never solved. Perhaps that's why Crona
suspected foul play, but he could not substantiate his suspicion.
Ever since my father's death, the push for my mother's study became
more rigorous. Part of her welcomed it as it provided an escape from her
mourning. Eventually though, she came to hate her discipline more than
before. She became withdrawn and reclusive, so much so that when she
disappeared from the Elven community, no one noticed for weeks. When
someone finally became aware that she was missing, they searched for her
for months, but no trace of her was ever found. Eventually, they
presumed her dead.
I was born after my father's death and I was raised by my aunt,
Ajerla - my mother's younger sister - until I was fifteen. I had some of
my mother's gift for magic, but I wasn't trained in the discipline nor
was any training offered. I was allowed to partake in some lessons on
archery, but eventually, I had to practice those lessons on my own. I
had few friends. Most of my time was spent alone in some nearby
woods…taking solace in the peace and away from prying eyes that were
filled with either pity or contempt.
When my mother disappeared, my aunt sent me to live with Crona who
had been requesting to train me in the art of battle since my father's
Life in Zâraminbar was busy and pleasant and Crona
treated my like his own son. I felt accepted by the community where I've
made several good friends. Even though Crona preferred the axe, he
trained me in the usage of assorted weapons-particularly with the sword.
Every now and then, he would tell me stories about my father minus the
usual embellishment he would give to other tavern buddies. I can tell
that he misses my father very much. I wish I met my father, and I miss
my mother. But every once in a while, I felt as if she is watching
As years go by, I grew more inquisitive of my gift in magic. Crona
could not offer any help in this area, but neither did he forbid me to
study it. In fact, despite his feelings towards the elves for how they
treated my father, he encouraged me to embrace my elven heritage. So
much so that when I proposed that I strike out on my own and live in the
elven forest, Crona did not disapprove.
It is so that on my twenty-first year, I left Zâraminbar
and became a ranger in the northern parts of Vilyataure (Forest
of the Sky) in between the land of the elves and the land of the
dwarves. From time to time, I would visit my aunt and Crona, but for the
most part, I have come to accept my solitary life.