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Eldon

 
Eldon Thistleheart

Race: Strongheart Halfling

Class: Wizard 4 (Conjuration specialist)

Appearance: Eldon is 3'2" and thin, with deep-set earthy-brown eyes, long, furry sideburns, and long black hair that he most often wears pulled back. He often wears a hefty cloak and robe of dark colors, with his hood often up.



Background: Eldon hails from a rather large halfling clan in one of Lodis' more recently acquired temperate vassal states. Unlike most halflings, Eldon's clan had settled into a permanent village. This was because the original owner of the land, a wealthy but militarily inexperienced human merchant and his family, granted them the use of his land in return for their helping save him and his estate from marauding ogres.

Eldon was a happy lad in a strong family, although he always was a little more reserved than his kin. From an early age he showed a propensity for book-learning and intelligence, and so his family decided to apprentice him to the town wizard. During this time, Eldon's grandfather passed away. At the ceremony, Eldon was enthralled by the clergy of Urogalan, the halfling god of death and the earth, and their solemnity and dignity. Afterward he became a devout follower of Urogalan. He felt happy and content in his life, even if some of his kin thought him a little strange.

Then came the day when the clan's human benefactors turned on them. Lodis, having heard of the rampant "heathenism" and "idolatry" and "lawlessness" in this area of their empire, decided to offer a great sum of money to the humans to purchase their lands and fully integrate them into Lodis law. The humans readily accepted, then moved to the capital city, leaving the halflings in the dust. Imperial agents soon came to the clan village, demanding that they cease their idol worship, dismantle their village and integrate into Lodis society. The halflings, knowing when they were outmatched, agreed.

Since the integration, Eldon struck out on his own in the capital, studying more about conjuration magic. He paid lip service to the Lodisian god, but inwardly his sincere worship of He Who Must Be (Urogalan) increased even more. He has started to grow tired of soft Imperial living, and once he heard of the mission to Ostorea, he readily offered his services of magic and knowledge to the cause, ostensibly as a loyal and skilled Imperial subject, but secretly for a chance to see more of the world and get away from the corruption and rampant bureaucracy of the capital.

Alignment: Lawful Neutral, with the lawful emphasis being on a personal code of discipline and less on external laws. (He does obey the law just like the average N person would, just that's not where his personal "lawfulness" aspect comes from.)

Expected Posting Rate: At least 1/day.

Writing Sample: How would your character enter an inn and order?

Eldon enters the inn quietly in the wake of some boisterous big people. Swathed in his large cloak and with his hood up, he seemed like a silent small cloud that no one seemed to pay any attention to.

He walks slowly up to the bar, weary from a day of travel, and hops up onto a stool. Even still, his eyes barely clear the edge.

"Excuse me, sir?" he says to the bartender in a small voice, "I'm rather weary and would like a drink. Have you any halfling Pulsch Brown ale?"

The bartender didn't hear him over the drunken guffaws of the other patrons, and he kept on jawing with the others at the bar between swigs from his own flagon. Eldon sighed.

"Excuse me, sir? May I get some service here?" he says, trying to be louder. But his small lungs are no match. He clears his throat and stands up on the stool and ruffles his cloak. A bat flies out of the folds, squeaking, and flutters about the bartender's head.

The bartender promptly yelps in surprise and spends a good half a minute flapping his flabby arms wildly at the bat. Eldon commands his familiar to return to his shoulder, and the bartender stops. Breathing hard, sweat running down his plump red face, he stares in wide-eyed surprise at the little man.

"Why, er, yes, um, well, hmm...sorry bout that," the bartender stammers. "What can I get you?"

"Have you any Halfling Pulsch..." Eldon begins, then sighs. "...give me a full flagon of the best stout you've got." And he sits back down, smiling at the sudden silence in the room as the bartender fetches his drink.





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