Heroes of Greyhawk
A young, ambitious elven wizard with vast knowledge of the Arcane and world alike
Status: Alive, Greyhawk
Lvl. 12 Elf
(Lvl 11 Wizard, Lvl 1 Demon Caller)
Str: 12 Dex: 20 Con: 12
Int: 24 Wis: 10 Cha: 8
All throughout Soren’s younger life, he lived the sheltered little village of Hera, several miles south of Greyhawk. In this village, Soren, then named Authgalad by Elven tradition, grew up as an only child with his Wood-Elf mother, Maerima, and High-Elf father, Alaius. In his childhood, he befriended a small group of close companions, with which he spent most of his somewhat mischeivous young life. Five of them there were: Authgalad, Bregmun, Verien, Renina and her toddler sister Nessima. They were like Authgalad’s second family. One large ambition the companions formed was to escape the sheltered life of Hera upon reaching adulthood, and become adventurers together. But for Authgalad, this dream was attacked by his father’s personal preferences. Alaius was fond of Heran tradition of pacification and a stable, established life, and a life of adventuring and violence for his son didn’t appeal to him at all. Authgalad and Alaius’ ideals often clashed, and there was much dissonance between the young elf and his father. So Authgalad turned his eyes to the curious Druid that made visits to Hera once every month or so. The Druid’s name was Taliesin, and Authgalad was intruiged by him. He was the “Outside Man”, and was for the most part the only soul he had ever seen that was from beyong the village boundaries. He came bearing tales of the world, and these stories transfixed Authgalad. Taliesin soon became Authgalad’s idol, and Taliesin recognized his face every time he came to the village. One day, Taliesin smiled down to Authgalad, and said, “Young one, you are always so interested in the world. I have a gift for you.” And Taliesin reached up and took an amulet from his neck. He held it up in the sunlight, and Authgalad could see that it was a twisting silver dragon, with a shining, orange jewel in the dragon’s mouth. With wide eyes, Authgalad accepted this gift. Taliesin gave him a wink and walked away, saying, “Take good care of the Druid’s Heart!” For the next two weeks, Authgalad didn’t dare remove the gift from around his neck. His friends were in awe, and he wore it proudly. And at this point, one of the highest points in his young life, during which his adventuring spirit burned proudly inside, the winds of Fate blew in an unfavorable direction for many unfortunate souls. Alaius told Authgalad that he had to go to one of his biannual meetings for council with Greyhawk, and asked if he wanted to go. Authgalad didn’t feel like sitting in a carraige with his parents for days, and declined. A bit later that day, he was walking down one of the streets of Hera, when suddenly, something happened that would change his life forever. Authgalad heard a strange whistling, and gave a backwards glance. His eyes fell on the Council House towards the back of the village, his home, and just as was about to turn back around, it began. The still Council House abruptly exploded in a violent, fiery inferno. Authgalad paled and stared vacantly for a moment. After a few seconds, his mind started working again, and his first thought was a blinding worry for his parents. There was no telling if they had left already or not, but if they were inside, he had to do something to save them. As he ran back through the streets toward the council house, yet another terrible sight met his eyes. Throughout all of the streets, goblins and hobgoblins swarmed, slaughtering villagers left and right. Authgalad was frantic, as he dodged around the action while trying to get to the Council House. He headed through an alley-way, then stopped cold right before an opening. Four elven men stood in a circle, looking outward at the enemy goblins that surrounded them. Authgalad stared in horror, then his eyes went upward to the rooftops, where he could see something the others didn’t. A man in a dark gray cloak stood on the corner of one of the rooves, his face completely hidden in the shadow of his hood. He was still for a moment, and then he leapt from the roof. A frontflip through the air, and he landed in the middle of the elven men. The men tried to scatter, but the hooded man gave a spin of his cloak, and four tiny men lunged from under his cloak, clothed just like their master. In the blink of an eye, they swung small blades in wide arcs that sliced clean through the four men.