Tales of Tolgard
Ales (2299 HR – Present)
Ales was born in 2299 HR in a small cabin northwest of Tallgrass in the Western Versat Human Territories near the Elvish Northlands border. His father was a ranger and his mother was an herbalist. They lived a simple life in the woods, only occasionally visiting the nearby town. His father hunted from time to time, tanning the pelts and his mother gathered herbs which they bartered in the village for supplies and a few luxuries.
In time Ales was old enough and his father began to teach him the ways of the ranger. He worked hard and gained knowledge in hunting, fishing, tracking, trapping and the like. He planned to live a quiet life watching over the forest when disaster struck.
His father had left him in a part of the woods he had never explored. To officially complete his training he needed to survive for two weeks with only the clothes on his back and a simple obsidian knife, then find his way back home. As his father disappeared into the trees it would be the last time Ales ever saw him alive.
At the end of the two weeks Ales headed home. He was certainly a bit lighter than when he had begun, but between setting snares for meat and what his mother taught him of edible plants, he hadn’t fared too badly. He’d managed to get a fire going on his twelfth attempt and got a passable lean-to constructed before he got to soaked the third day.
A few wisps of smoke were still escaping the charred remains of his cabin. Inside he found the burned remains of his parents. It seemed they’d been killed by bladed weapons and thrown into the burning cabin almost as an afterthought. Ales went numb then, going through the motions of digging the graves and burying his parents. It wasn’t until he’d set the last marker stone that his rage finally broke through with a soul-cleansing yell of hatred and despair.
He worked quickly then. He’d need a weapon, but anything at the cabin had been destroyed or taken. His knife had shattered during the second week of his trial so it was no help. Sifting through the rubble he found a length of iron chain- it would have to do.
Examining the crime scene he noted several shattered bottles. Upon a closer look he recognized the flowing script of elven characters. That didn’t make sense, though- why would the [elf|elves]] attack his family? he wasn’t sure but quickly found his trail and at least one thing seemed odd about then.
From the gait and the print size, it seemed he was tracking several elves. But the steps were uneven and seemed to slide all about. They must be very, very drunk he surmised. While he’d never developed much of a taste for wine, he had seen townsfolk huddling and slurring in the bar at Tallgrass and that seemed to fit best. With his chain in hand he set about catching up to his parents’ murderers.
They had not gotten very far. Even if he had missed the tracks, the broken bottles and little pieces of the life he had known were dropped here and there along a trail leading north. Eventually he came upon the encampment of elves.
There were three of them by a large fire. They were all male and very young. Ales might have felt some pity for them except for two things. The first was the way they were wearing the weapons of his father and odd scraps of his mother’s shawl. But what sealed their fate was their lurid retelling of how they had killed those stupid humans and how they had squealed in the fire.
Ales saw red then. When he came back to himself he looked down at his hands. His chain was soaked in blood and bone and brain. The corpses were strewn all about the campsite. He didn’t even bury the bodies, he just started walked to the south.
Over the next year Ales worked hard with his chain and learned the ways of the chain dancer. The one thing he could depend on, those simple links of iron, and helped him avenge his parents.
Ales eventually found his way to Cinderblock where he met a man by the name of Maurice Lionbrave. They struck up a fast friendship and, when Maurice mentioned an organization he worked for called the Protectors, it sounded like an idea he could get behind. A few days later he met some new friends: Sparkfinger Dwindledrop, Azaeladew Dwindledrop, Hogie Quintestca and finally Slog Ogrebane. They headed out of town and the true adventure began.
After returning from a particularly harrowing trip to the Southeast Fort near Trezna Ales enjoyed a few too many elven spirits. He decided to marry his new friend, a elven lass by the name of Anhaba Glenville. They were married by Bimpto Mardfoodle at the Wedlock While You Wait shrine of Nebelun while his protector allies looked on. They then stumbled out of town to the north, heading for Moonshadow.
Anhaba Glenville – Wife