Nations At War
Mylus, level 4
Seeker’s Bond: Bloodbond
Background: Early Life – Lost Everything, Bloodtangle (+2 to Nature)
FINAL ABILITY SCORES
Str 10, Con 12, Dex 17, Int 10, Wis 21, Cha 8.
STARTING ABILITY SCORES
Str 10, Con 12, Dex 14, Int 10, Wis 18, Cha 8.
AC: 18 Fort: 13 Reflex: 16 Will: 18
HP: 39 Surges: 8 Surge Value: 9
Nature +16, Acrobatics +10, Perception +14, Stealth +10
Arcana +2, Bluff +1, Diplomacy +1, Dungeoneering +7, Endurance +3, Heal +7, History +2, Insight +7, Intimidate +1, Religion +2, Streetwise +1, Thievery +5, Athletics +2
Level 1: Weapon Proficiency (Greatbow)
Level 2: Weapon Focus (Bow)
Level 4: Weapon Expertise (Bow)
Seeker at-will 1: Biting Swarm
Seeker at-will 1: Grappling Spirits
Seeker encounter 1: Possessing Spirits
Seeker daily 1: Swarming Bats
Seeker utility 2: Far Sight
Seeker encounter 3: Winter Spirit
Eagle Eye Goggles (heroic tier), Duelist’s Bow Greatbow +1, Shadowdance Leather Armor +1, Bracers of the Perfect Shot (heroic tier)
The air was thick with the horrid stench orc and goblin blood, the thick smoke of the burning wood pierced Mylus’s eyes. Acedia forest lay in ruins, the once mighty town of Brinlith burned into ashes. The dead numbered in the thousands, the only survivor, lay in mourning at his great loss. Mylus was unsure what to do, his family, friends, his elven lords, even those few that Mylus has grew to care not for are all littered about around him. The smoldering buildings that still cling to the trees fall the ground piece by piece, the loud thump of the once detailed woodwork against the charred earth.
Hours earlier Acedia forest had not known war, not known the taste of blood, had not known death, the recent years have been kind to the elves of Acedia forest. The Elven Sentential Mylus of the Cryith House was on patrol his daily patrol, communing with nature. The birds that morning were unusually quiet, singing only dreary songs and the insects didn’t chirp their blissful mating calls. Something was uneasy in the forest and Mylus new this, his scouting partner, Parich of the Cryith House drew her bow in anticipation.
“Something is afoot this morn’ Mylus, the forest tells me so” Parich said in a cool manner, “the air smells foul and the earth quivers in fear.”
What Parich said was unneeded; Mylus could feel the terror in the forest, the hair in his neck stood on end. Mylus and Parich continued along the trail they were following, their bows drawn with long arrows cocked. The path, carved into the forest by the great stags of Acedia forest, twisted around, never staying on a straight path; even so both Mylus and Parich never once doubted their heading.
Mylus stopped raising his hand in motion at Parich , who quickly turned to him, “whats wrong Mylus, we should continue to move swift” but not before he ended that final word, Parich knew why Mylus stopped him. Not twenty feet ahead was a clearing in the forest, known as the Demons Skull, for in the center of the clearing lays a gigantic rock that resembles a mighty balrogs skull. The scent of campfire, rotten meat and foul creatures filled the air like a think musk.
“Move slowly and keep your backs the great trees, stay still at the edge of the brush” Mylus said as he weaves his way between two mighty oaks, his bow taught, ready to release at any moment.
Looking upon the clearing, Demon Skull rock looms over an encampment of orcs, goblins, hobgoblins and a large fierce ogre. The goblins, harassed by the orcs, dig a large hole with crude shovels under their command. The hobgoblins patrol the outer edge while the ogre sits between the giant horns on the demon rock.
“These goblins don’t fly the banner of the Goretooth clan, they are not of Acedia” Parich whispered to Mylus, “and it has been centuries since the likes of orcs have been seen in these lands. We must act swiftly and return to Brinlith.”
“No,” Mylus exclaimed, “these beasts must perish for trespassing in our lands, we have not time to inform the elders.” Mylus raises his bow, aimed at the closest orc. “I will kill the orcs first, you take the hobgoblins.”
“But what of the ogre, surely he would kill us in one great cleave!” Parich retorted, “An ogre is something even we as sentinels should fear.”
Mylus’s face grew grim, “We must not worry over such trivial matters and waste our precious time, if we do not strike now we will not continue to have the advantage of the first strike, let our ambust begin, take to the trees Parich, I will flank them on the left, keep the Ogre at distance and you have nothing to fear.”
Displeased at the response, but in defeat Parich scaled the largest oak that borders the camp, and she did not stop till she was ten men high, overlooking the whole camp. Looking out from his vantage point, Parich’s heart sunk deep into his chest. This was no rogue band of greenskins, no hunting party in Acedia forest looking for their next meal.
In the distance smoke pillowed into the air, a light breeze carried the smoke in a southerly direction, away from the two sentinels. The dense foliage of the trees had blocked it from view and the very spirits of the forest betrayed their senses. Parich knew what they had stumbled on to, a forward scouting party setting up a basecamp in the clearing for what was to come, thousands of goblin and orc kind are on the march.
Parich could hear the call, a chirp of a rare bird that Mylus can imitate, drawing his bow taught and letting it loose, flying straight into the heart of the closest hobgoblin. Parich let a second arrow fly, felling another hobgoblin. On the other side of the clearing Parich can see two orcs slump over, great elven arrows mark their bodies.
The encampment went in an uproar, the ogre bellowing out orders to the remaining goblins, the last orc raises his axe and with a loud cry disappeared into the woods. Parich continued to pick off the goblins, now moving his attention to the closest ones, felling two more in quick succession before seeing the ogre, picking up a large mansized club and slowly moving closer, tossing aside the weaker goblins in his way like ragdolls.
The orc charged in the forest, his axe raised high above his head, screaming his battle roar. He was unable to hear Mylus sneak behind him and slice his throat over the noise of the goblins screaming in the clearing.
Mylus looked back into the clearing, seeing Parich sparring with the ogre. He moved swiftly into the clearing, dispatching two more arrows into a charging orc and another into a nearby goblin. Parich was having troubles keeping distance with the ogre, every time Parich took on step back into the forest the ogre would lob a large rock, tree stump or even a body, forcing Parich to evade closer.
As Mylus ran closer to Parich’s aid, he let two arrows loose on the ogre, but they barely pierced his flesh, instead they only served to distract the ogre, allowing Parich to escape into the forest. The ogre turned towards Mylus and with a swift kick Mylus flew across the clearing, into the forest.
Parich screamed something, and like a crazed hyena set jumped onto the ogres back, swiping wildly with her twin swords. With a loud thud the ogre fell from the onslaught but the ranger did not cease until the until he was sure even a necromancer could not raise him.
Mylus awoke, his whole body wracked with pain from the injuries he sustained. The smell of burning flesh and wood brought him to his senses, the very forest burned. Staggering to his feet he moved to the clearing, seeing the aftermath of the battle. All around him the forest burned, the fire so great it seemd to lick the sky.
After a quick search to see if Parich’s body was among the dead, Mylus rushed back to Brinlith, dodging falling branches and blistering fires along the way. Every few minutes Mylus would see another sentinel, dead, surrounded by corpses of goblins, hobgoblins and orcs. It was clear they were outnumbered and they were losing ground, but Mylus could not think of what could happen if the warband had gotten to Brinlith, hoping that the city in the trees survived.
When Mylus arrived at Brinlith his heart sunk, his fears came true, the elven stronghold, his entire life, crumbled to the ground, ablaze. The elders pinned by large spears to the largest tree in the center of the once great city, many of his family charred beyond recognition.
For many months Mylus dug the graves for his people, burying his mother, his father, his brothers and sisters. Many were unaccounted for and many were two charred to be recognizable. Mylus never did find Parich among the dead, and he hoped that Parich somehow survived.
Once the last of his people were buried, Mylus vowed to find who was responsible and do the same to his people and to let no orc, goblin or ogre kind live on. Leaving the ashes of Acedia forest the Elvish Sentinel, Mylus of House Cryith, marched on to avenge his people.