Talim - Mishan - Correan
Talimund Halfblood
A few years after his training from Falcon he receives an official invitation to join the Carmanthyr Rangers Association. After joining Talimund quickly gains many badges of merit and flies through the ranks of rangers. Supernaturally gifted in the ways of the wilderness he quickly amassed the greatest variety of badges of merit among the living rangers and gains the rank of master ranger. To honor his new rank the rangers hold a religious ceremony to Silvanus with the hope that Talimund will receive his blessing. The ceremony succeeds and Silvanus asks him what his greatest desire is. Talimund responds that he wishes to know his true parentage. Silvanus then reveals to him that he is a bastard son of the House of Cormaeril the royal family of Daggerdale and that he is destined to rule.
One of the rangers present at the ceremony sells Talimund out to the Cormaerils who are enraged at the possibility of a bastard stealing rule from them. They begin a manhunt to find and kill Talimund. Luckily Talimund is sheltered by the communities he had protected as well as the ranger association. Unfortunately the same ranger sells him out and one fateful night he is attacked by a contingent of assassins. Talimund manages to slay them but not after being fatally poisoned. It is at this point that a the djinn Kevin Oceanspray appears before him and offers him a deal. He will be healed and provided a refuge where none will find him as long as he agrees to participate in the demon's dangerous game of Conquest or Calamity. With few choices before him Talimund agrees.
Mishan
Mishan is a noble paladin, hailing from the dragonborn nation of Tymanther. As a child she showed great promise in the martial arts, developing skills quickly amongst her renowned kin. A prodigy in more ways than one, Mishan exhibited mastery over her breath weapon at a very early age and was considered by many to be an ideal candidate for future clan leadership. Thus, she was placed under the tutelage of her uncle Medrash, the greatest warrior and clan leader in a generation.
As she neared the age of maturity, Mishan continued to distinguish herself as a warrior of great honor and prowess, earning a reputation befitting of her pedigree. It was on her eighteenth name day that she first heard the whispers, faint at first, then louder. Her family had long tried to protect her from the terrible secret.
Medrash was not Dragonborn but half-dragon. How could it be? Dragons and their half-dragon servants had long been a feared and deadly enemy to her people, a force to be resisted or purged from the land, certainly not one to be studied or deified. Yet Mishan loved her uncle still. She had to find the whole truth.
There was no mistaking what she found in those ancient tomes. In such a time as the clan had suffered great losses in war, Mishan’s great aunt, Medrash’s mother to be, departed from their village to seek salvation for her conflict-ravaged kin. It was in this desperation that she turned to their hated dragon enemy. She returned from this pilgrimage on the harvest moon, with Medrash in her womb.
In time, he would lead his mother and her people into an era of unprecedented prosperity and peace and the rumors of an unholy union would seem far off, mythical. It was clear to Mishan, that her uncle owed a great deal of his strength to his parentage and though he was an honorable leader, the other Dragonborn clans would never condone the despicable union to which he owed his siring, to say nothing of Mishan’s own trepidation.
Questioning everything she’d ever know, with loyalties to clan and family at odds, Mishan resolved to embark upon a pilgrimage of her own, to journey a world feared, so as to grow in wisdom and stature and one day return to face a reality more terrible than any mortal foe.
Although not an uncommon practice amongst the dragonborn, her family was reluctant to let such a promising youth leave their community. However Medrash, recognizing the fear in his pupil’s heart, surprised Mishan and the rest of the clan by endorsing her decision. Thus, given little choice in the matter, the clan leaders agreed to grant her leave.
After the parliament had concluded, Medrash sought out his young ward, in private. In fear, Mishan drew her weapon, preparing to defend herself, but her uncle showed no signs of aggression, only sadness. It was clear to both that there were no secrets.
“Remember Mishan, I didn’t ask for this. Perhaps with time you will learn to judge others by more than their heritage but as for now”, the sable scales on Medrash’s outstretched hand glimmered in the dim lamplight, as he offered his former student a final gift. “Keep this locket and always remember my love for you, as you stand against the evils of this world, as I have.”
An expression of satisfaction briefly flickered across the half-dragon’s face. “I have never been more proud, niece. Go forth and live with honor. I have no doubt that the stories of your greatness will long outlive the rumors of your shame.”
Many months later, with her uncle’s final lesson still fresh in her mind and his parting gift around her neck, Mishan stood boldly before the Djinn, Kevin Oceanspray. Though in exchange for her services, he offered an escape from the troubles of life, paradise, it was ultimately not some boon or assurance of recompense, which brought the Dragonborn’s will to bear but rather the promise of doing good in the world.
And so, with the courage of dragons and principles of a great teacher, Mishan laid her demons to rest, and found her place in Paradise Sands, ready to serve and protect the world from conquest or calamity.
Correan is an enigmatic Tiefling Rogue who spent his spring years in the sprawling port city of Calimport. He never knew his parents and his first memories were those of being poked and prodded, as a slave and oddity. Being a tiefling and showing the traits of that heritage, such as his curved horns and tail, his value was first realized as a sideshow attraction. Many would pay to “Come and see the “Demon Child!” Driven by greed and with an unwavering cruelty, Correan’s masters exploited the toddler at every opportunity. Many treated him no better than the animals, with whom at night he was penned, often going as far as to “train” him with a whip or rod. The troubled child’s rebellious spirit, fueled by a contempt for his abusers, began to lead him down a sinister road. Many of those counted amongst Correan’s captors turned up dead or worse, often without explanation. The only visible link between the apparent slayings was fire.
Eventually, Correan’s juxtaposition to his ill fated masters seemed to much of a coincidence and the child was thrown into prison to await judgement. There, he came under the ownership of Pasha Nezim; an up and coming power in Calimport. Nezim, being a collector of rare creatures, took an interest in the “Demon Child”, purchasing him from the city, though in truth he fully understood Correan’s hellish origins and the magical benefits entitled to the holder thereof.
During one particularly violent coaxing, Correan was made to demonstrate those fiery magics on another slave. The pillars remain scorched to this day. A short time later, Nezim concluded that Correan would serve a greater purpose than being just a part of a menagerie.
Under the Pasha’s rule, Correan experienced finer living than he’d ever known and great freedom, so long as the boy served well. Correan learned that the majority of Nezim’s power stemmed from his position as guildmaster of smugglers and thieves and in time, the adolescent rouge performed many dark deeds, in the service of the guild. The tasks started out simple enough. One day he might transport a package from the port to the guild house. The next he would be tasked with feeding the many creatures of Pasha Nezim’s menagerie.
One such task was to attend the women in the Pasha’s harem. It was the Pasha’s belief that the Tiefling’s otherworldly appearance would reduce the risk of him consorting with the women. Not that having four hulking eunuch bodyguards watch his every move was insufficient motivation. The Pasha’s flare for the exotic also extended to his taste in women. There seemed to be woman from every race and region under the heavens; not to mention a wide array of body types. Correan found his eyes drawn to only one out of the many.
Bai An was a Mulan girl, distinguished looking, with a slender frame, pale skin, and black almond shaped eyes. She was beautiful. She was also a master of the healing arts.
On one occasion, after having been gravely injured on assignment, Corrian awoke to find An tending to his wounds. If not for her healing abilities, he would have surely died and he could not forget the warmth of her touch or the kindness of her eyes. In all his life, she had been the first person to treat him with such care. He knew he would never forget her.
After having earned a measure of the Pasha’s respect, Corrian was entrusted with the more important jobs of thievery and intrigue. It was then that Correan began to truly earn his keep. Using his natural cunning and honed abilities, he became one of the best thieves in the guild and the Pasha’s favorite bet.
It was not long before Correan recognized some measure of his own value and petitioned the Pasha for his freedom. Unwilling to release such a talented slave for any simple price, Pasha Nezim assigned Correan a grim task. If Correan could dispatch one hundred of the Pashas enemies and provide proof, then he would be free. To the Nezim’s surprise, The lad agreed.
This agreement marked the beginning of an age of fear in the dark streets of Calimport. Although reluctant at first, Correan took to his work with a desperate resolve. It was time he paid back the torments his childhood gone. He lost himself in his new craft, his natural talent transforming the once feeble child into a living specter of death for the enemies of the Pasha.
In six short months, Correan was a single kill away from freedom. It was then that the Pasha called upon him to execute a traitor. In his highness’ personal chambers, Nezim hauled forward a young woman by her hair. He released with a flourish and she clattered to the ground.
“This woman has dared to attempt to poison me! Kill her and you will be free!!”
To Correan’s dismay, the face that looked up was that of Bai An. He stood frozen, as Pasha Nezim screamed for her death. Correan took a few steps toward her before the strength left his legs. He fell to his knees and groaned “I can’t”. Nezim calmed suddenly and a wicked grin grew across his face. “I know” he replied as he drew a dagger from his robe. With a swift jerk, Nezim ended Bai An’s life and without warning, driven by an uncontrollable rage beyond reason, Correan hurled himself at his master, murder in his eyes.
Had it not been for the Pasha’s guards, Correan might have completed his hundredth kill then and there. Eight strong arms held the young Tiefling still. Nezim coldly turned to regard Correan.
“A pity. A slave cannot threaten his master. Consider the deal off. You will serve me until the day of your death. Now take him to the cells of the nine. He needs to relearn his place in life.”
Thus it was while lamenting his wreck of a life in the hellish prison of Pasha Nezim’s thieves guild that Correan had an unexpected visitor; Kevin Oceanspray. It was unclear what Oceanspray had offered Nezim in trade but the Djinn offered Correan his freedom, or a freedom of sorts. He would be provided refuge from the cruelty of this world, in Paradise Sands, on the condition that Correan would perform to the best of his abilities on the assignments given by the Djinn.
Something told Correan that he wasn’t simply trading one master for another. Thus he decided to accept the offer rather than suffer continued cruelty under the Pasha. And so, Correan found himself in Paradise sands, uncertain of the world around him and determined to find his own way to Conquest or Calamity.
As she neared the age of maturity, Mishan continued to distinguish herself as a warrior of great honor and prowess, earning a reputation befitting of her pedigree. It was on her eighteenth name day that she first heard the whispers, faint at first, then louder. Her family had long tried to protect her from the terrible secret.
Medrash was not Dragonborn but half-dragon. How could it be? Dragons and their half-dragon servants had long been a feared and deadly enemy to her people, a force to be resisted or purged from the land, certainly not one to be studied or deified. Yet Mishan loved her uncle still. She had to find the whole truth.
There was no mistaking what she found in those ancient tomes. In such a time as the clan had suffered great losses in war, Mishan’s great aunt, Medrash’s mother to be, departed from their village to seek salvation for her conflict-ravaged kin. It was in this desperation that she turned to their hated dragon enemy. She returned from this pilgrimage on the harvest moon, with Medrash in her womb.
In time, he would lead his mother and her people into an era of unprecedented prosperity and peace and the rumors of an unholy union would seem far off, mythical. It was clear to Mishan, that her uncle owed a great deal of his strength to his parentage and though he was an honorable leader, the other Dragonborn clans would never condone the despicable union to which he owed his siring, to say nothing of Mishan’s own trepidation.
Questioning everything she’d ever know, with loyalties to clan and family at odds, Mishan resolved to embark upon a pilgrimage of her own, to journey a world feared, so as to grow in wisdom and stature and one day return to face a reality more terrible than any mortal foe.
Although not an uncommon practice amongst the dragonborn, her family was reluctant to let such a promising youth leave their community. However Medrash, recognizing the fear in his pupil’s heart, surprised Mishan and the rest of the clan by endorsing her decision. Thus, given little choice in the matter, the clan leaders agreed to grant her leave.
After the parliament had concluded, Medrash sought out his young ward, in private. In fear, Mishan drew her weapon, preparing to defend herself, but her uncle showed no signs of aggression, only sadness. It was clear to both that there were no secrets.
“Remember Mishan, I didn’t ask for this. Perhaps with time you will learn to judge others by more than their heritage but as for now”, the sable scales on Medrash’s outstretched hand glimmered in the dim lamplight, as he offered his former student a final gift. “Keep this locket and always remember my love for you, as you stand against the evils of this world, as I have.”
An expression of satisfaction briefly flickered across the half-dragon’s face. “I have never been more proud, niece. Go forth and live with honor. I have no doubt that the stories of your greatness will long outlive the rumors of your shame.”
Many months later, with her uncle’s final lesson still fresh in her mind and his parting gift around her neck, Mishan stood boldly before the Djinn, Kevin Oceanspray. Though in exchange for her services, he offered an escape from the troubles of life, paradise, it was ultimately not some boon or assurance of recompense, which brought the Dragonborn’s will to bear but rather the promise of doing good in the world.
And so, with the courage of dragons and principles of a great teacher, Mishan laid her demons to rest, and found her place in Paradise Sands, ready to serve and protect the world from conquest or calamity.
Correan
Correan is an enigmatic Tiefling Rogue who spent his spring years in the sprawling port city of Calimport. He never knew his parents and his first memories were those of being poked and prodded, as a slave and oddity. Being a tiefling and showing the traits of that heritage, such as his curved horns and tail, his value was first realized as a sideshow attraction. Many would pay to “Come and see the “Demon Child!” Driven by greed and with an unwavering cruelty, Correan’s masters exploited the toddler at every opportunity. Many treated him no better than the animals, with whom at night he was penned, often going as far as to “train” him with a whip or rod. The troubled child’s rebellious spirit, fueled by a contempt for his abusers, began to lead him down a sinister road. Many of those counted amongst Correan’s captors turned up dead or worse, often without explanation. The only visible link between the apparent slayings was fire.
Eventually, Correan’s juxtaposition to his ill fated masters seemed to much of a coincidence and the child was thrown into prison to await judgement. There, he came under the ownership of Pasha Nezim; an up and coming power in Calimport. Nezim, being a collector of rare creatures, took an interest in the “Demon Child”, purchasing him from the city, though in truth he fully understood Correan’s hellish origins and the magical benefits entitled to the holder thereof.
During one particularly violent coaxing, Correan was made to demonstrate those fiery magics on another slave. The pillars remain scorched to this day. A short time later, Nezim concluded that Correan would serve a greater purpose than being just a part of a menagerie.
Under the Pasha’s rule, Correan experienced finer living than he’d ever known and great freedom, so long as the boy served well. Correan learned that the majority of Nezim’s power stemmed from his position as guildmaster of smugglers and thieves and in time, the adolescent rouge performed many dark deeds, in the service of the guild. The tasks started out simple enough. One day he might transport a package from the port to the guild house. The next he would be tasked with feeding the many creatures of Pasha Nezim’s menagerie.
One such task was to attend the women in the Pasha’s harem. It was the Pasha’s belief that the Tiefling’s otherworldly appearance would reduce the risk of him consorting with the women. Not that having four hulking eunuch bodyguards watch his every move was insufficient motivation. The Pasha’s flare for the exotic also extended to his taste in women. There seemed to be woman from every race and region under the heavens; not to mention a wide array of body types. Correan found his eyes drawn to only one out of the many.
Bai An was a Mulan girl, distinguished looking, with a slender frame, pale skin, and black almond shaped eyes. She was beautiful. She was also a master of the healing arts.
On one occasion, after having been gravely injured on assignment, Corrian awoke to find An tending to his wounds. If not for her healing abilities, he would have surely died and he could not forget the warmth of her touch or the kindness of her eyes. In all his life, she had been the first person to treat him with such care. He knew he would never forget her.
After having earned a measure of the Pasha’s respect, Corrian was entrusted with the more important jobs of thievery and intrigue. It was then that Correan began to truly earn his keep. Using his natural cunning and honed abilities, he became one of the best thieves in the guild and the Pasha’s favorite bet.
It was not long before Correan recognized some measure of his own value and petitioned the Pasha for his freedom. Unwilling to release such a talented slave for any simple price, Pasha Nezim assigned Correan a grim task. If Correan could dispatch one hundred of the Pashas enemies and provide proof, then he would be free. To the Nezim’s surprise, The lad agreed.
This agreement marked the beginning of an age of fear in the dark streets of Calimport. Although reluctant at first, Correan took to his work with a desperate resolve. It was time he paid back the torments his childhood gone. He lost himself in his new craft, his natural talent transforming the once feeble child into a living specter of death for the enemies of the Pasha.
In six short months, Correan was a single kill away from freedom. It was then that the Pasha called upon him to execute a traitor. In his highness’ personal chambers, Nezim hauled forward a young woman by her hair. He released with a flourish and she clattered to the ground.
“This woman has dared to attempt to poison me! Kill her and you will be free!!”
To Correan’s dismay, the face that looked up was that of Bai An. He stood frozen, as Pasha Nezim screamed for her death. Correan took a few steps toward her before the strength left his legs. He fell to his knees and groaned “I can’t”. Nezim calmed suddenly and a wicked grin grew across his face. “I know” he replied as he drew a dagger from his robe. With a swift jerk, Nezim ended Bai An’s life and without warning, driven by an uncontrollable rage beyond reason, Correan hurled himself at his master, murder in his eyes.
Had it not been for the Pasha’s guards, Correan might have completed his hundredth kill then and there. Eight strong arms held the young Tiefling still. Nezim coldly turned to regard Correan.
“A pity. A slave cannot threaten his master. Consider the deal off. You will serve me until the day of your death. Now take him to the cells of the nine. He needs to relearn his place in life.”
Thus it was while lamenting his wreck of a life in the hellish prison of Pasha Nezim’s thieves guild that Correan had an unexpected visitor; Kevin Oceanspray. It was unclear what Oceanspray had offered Nezim in trade but the Djinn offered Correan his freedom, or a freedom of sorts. He would be provided refuge from the cruelty of this world, in Paradise Sands, on the condition that Correan would perform to the best of his abilities on the assignments given by the Djinn.
Something told Correan that he wasn’t simply trading one master for another. Thus he decided to accept the offer rather than suffer continued cruelty under the Pasha. And so, Correan found himself in Paradise sands, uncertain of the world around him and determined to find his own way to Conquest or Calamity.
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