Sauvanien Miritar

[Craigmacc]

Summary

 

 

Sauvanien Miritar

Sauvanien, Wood Elf Wizard

"Keep it with you..."

Race: Wood Elf+2 Dex
+1 Wis
You can attempt to hide even when you are only lightly obscured by foliage, heavy rain, falling snow, mist, and other natural phenomena.
Class: WizardCantrips (3)

Mentor: GronlimContent...

Starting Equipment:

Dagger, Component Pouch, Scholar’s Pack, Spellbook, 

 

 

Lute, Traveller’s Clothes, Inheritance Brooch, Pouch with 15gp.

Proficiencies:

 

Longsword, Shortsword, Shortbow, Longbow, 

 

Daggers, Darts, Slings, Quarterstaffs, Light Crossbows

 

Common, Elvish, Halfling

 

Survival, Arcana, 

 

Medicine, History, 

 

Perception.

 

Lute

 

Semberholme

Private Content for: Rev73

Sauvanien’s home town is largely based on Cormanthyr’s Semberholme, with a few modifications. There are so many brilliant settlements in the forests of Cormanthor, and there is loads of lore there. I could rename it and move it somewhere else if required - I wouldn’t want to presume that anything is canon.

 

 

The Moonshadows

Private Content for: rev73

Again, this is largely based on the Moonshadows in FR canon, but I have tweaked it slightly, and moved names around etc. The main purpose is that I did not want to re-write any history that you may have established for the area already. It basically acts as Sauvanien’s early years training in casting.

 

 

Personality and Description

 

 

Early Years

Miruviel, ever bold, stepped up onto the rising stairwell. Sauvanien, infinitely more careful, hesitated in the tree line.

The curved structure, clearly the work of elven architects, climbed around the trunk of an old yew tree. It was made of a pale, almost white wood, and every two dozen steps or so, opened out onto wide platforms that looked out across Myth Drannor and the forest.

"Miruviel!" Sauvanien shout-whispered. She glanced left and right, praying that nobody was nearby. If we get caught… It felt like they were trespassing, behind enemy lines, though in reality, aside from being a little confused, it was unlikely that anybody who noticed them would be alarmed. Still, Sauvanien’s heart thumped in her chest. Moments later, Miruviel’s head peeked out from the first platform above. "Hey, how is the view from down there? Certainly not as good as it is from up here!"

Sauvanien clicked her fingers softly, and rubbed at the ring of copper wire bound around her thumb. She focussed on Miruviel, and whispered. "I don’t think we should go up there. What if we are seen?" Her hushed voice projected up to her twin, who expected the message - they often used the simple spell to communicate to each other. But Miruviel only grinned, and was soon gone again. Sauvanien felt her own mouth curl into a grin - It is to be a chase then…. She heard her brother’s soft footsteps grow quieter as he ascended further. Sauvanien stepped out of the treeline, up onto the structure, and took off after her brother.

Higher and higher she climbed, torn at each platform between stopping to admire the view and chasing after her brother. The excitement of the adventure was piquing, all notion of danger dispelled by youthful ignorance. Her heartbeat quickened with the growing grin on her face. Soon, she saw that Miruviel waited for her around a bend. He motioned for Sauvanien to slow, and he held a finger to his lips. A warm breeze brought two things. The smell of baked goods, and the tinkle of heartfelt laughter. Edging around the trunk, the twins could see that the next platform had a set of side steps which branched off along one of the larger boughs of the tree. It ended in a small semi-circular platform and a delicate bench of rosewood. A young couple, their hands entwined, sat together on the bench facing the magnificent view to the west. From that position, many of the tree-tops were below the platform, and birds flitted amongst the canopy carpet below. The sky was a brilliant blue ceiling overhead.

This place is incredible. If the city boasts buildings rivalling the beauty of this one, then it will be a wonderful place indeed. I don’t suppose Miruviel would care much to discuss the architecture of this tower… I must try to sketch it down when I get the time. I wonder if it is magical in composition...

Sauvanien, certain that the proximity of the couple would be enough to discourage Miruviel from continuing further, reached out for his arm. But he was already moving, padding softly up the stairs to the higher platforms above.

Eyeing the couple, Sauvanien followed, her bare feet barely sounding on the smooth timber boards. Higher and higher they climbed, fortunately avoiding running into any other company.

And then they were at the top.

The platform actually pierced out above the very top of the tree, held by a support network of weaving timbers. Sauvanien actually gasped as she reached the top. The blue of the sky was all around, the forest and city below seeming smaller. She walked around the edge of the platform, taking in the view from each side.

Soon, she joined Miruviel over at the eastern edge. They both sat with their feet dangling down, looking down towards Myth Drannor.

"It amazes me..." Sauvanien began, after the two shared a moment of silence. "...that anyone would rather live down there, in homes of stone, than up here, in the air. I mean, look at them." She pointed to a particular area at the gathering of four roads. The tiny people of Myth Drannor were bunched all together in what looked like a market square. There seemed barely room to breathe, never mind walk. They moved as one entity, flowing through the narrow gaps between the colourful stalls.

Miruviel nodded. "It does seem flawed from up here, doesn’t it. I suppose that such an abode has its advantages - you can’t burn down a stone walled house."

Sauvanien scoffed at the dark turn of her brother. So quick with the grim thoughts. In recent times I have worried that his mind is not at peace… I should raise my concerns with mother, she may also have noticed this change. Perhaps I am seeing darkness where there is only shade - I hope that is the case.

"And what about that… quite something isn’t it?" Miruviel motioned towards the structure that dominated the city, standing vigil over everything else - the castle. "So much stone. Where do you suppose they found it all?"

"I guess there must be a very large hole in the ground somewhere…" Miruviel nodded, continuing to stare out towards the city, but Sauvanien was only watching her brother. He had seemed different recently. It was a subtle thing, but his smile had been a little easier to drop, and his laugh a little less hearty. He caught him watching her, and smiled, somehow dispelling her doubts with that simple expression.

The two forest folk deliberated on the wonders of Myth Drannor well into the afternoon, and enjoyed a lunch of berries and honeyed bread. As the sun threatened to drop into the treeline, Sauvanien eventually stood and prepared to leave. "We should return here one day. Perhaps even enter the city."

Miruviel stood too, stretching his back. "Enter the city? You hesitated to set foot on this tower, let alone enter the city!" He hugged her close. He smelled like the forest. "I would like that, Sauvanien. We will return."

Sauvanien smiled into her twin’s shoulder. I am blessed to have you, brother… how lonely it must be to grow up without such a companion. Never change...

Before she followed Miruviel from the tree-tower, she looked once more to the west, and thanked Mielikki for keeping them safe on their journey to Myth Drannor. She asked that the Forest Queen continue to keep watch on them through whatever was to come next.

 

 

Brother in Exile

"If you don’t agree with the Council, then you can talk to them! You have influence, mother. They know well what father’s ancestors did for our people. What we have continued to do to this day. They would have to listen. You could get him back, if you believe him innocent."

She remembered that he was dressed for travel. That was the first sign that something was wrong.

The second was the look on his face. It was guilt. She could read him well - he was her twin after all. But that didn't help to make sense of the situation.

"Miruviel, what is-"

He had hugged her with a ferocity, like he could cling to her and that would prevent him from having to leave. She could still feel the closeness of him when she recalled the moment. And she remembered that it terrified her.

His voice came back to her then. Watching his face, stunned into silence, Sauvanien could almost tell what he was going to say. It was the way his mouth seemed ready to fall into a frown but was somehow forced into a smile.
”Sauvanien… I must leave.” he pulled back from the embrace, holding his hands against her head. “I wish that I could explain more, I apologise. My heart rips to leave you, but it must be so.”

Sauvanien was shaking her head, and could feel her hands trembling. They had never been apart. Not properly. "Please, don’t go… I don’t understand!" She searched his face for an answer.

Then Miruviel clasped his hands around hers and the unease dulled. He pushed something into her palm and curled her fingers around it. “These brooches…” Looking down, Sauvanien saw a pair of brooches formed by fine silver wire, each one forming half of a deep green leaf. “These brooches will find their way back to one another. I have asked Mielikki to make it so. Keep this with you always, and we will be together once more.” He left one in her hand, took the other, and hugged her once more. Just as fiercely. Just as desperately, as if he could become one with her and that would be an end to it.
“I love you, sister.” He broke off then, and backed away. She could find no words.

“Keep it with you.”

And he was gone.

 

 

Myth Drannor

”Keep it with you”

Sauvanien tensed.

The thump of hurried footsteps drew her up into a sitting position. Her neck and back were stiff from having laid for hours on the floor of platform. She had performed her evening prayer to Mielikki from the tower top, which seemed an apt location to acknowledge the work of the Forest Queen. Then settling down on the same spot that she had shared with her twin a few months before, she had turned her attention to the sky. But she had stared so long at the stars that she hadn’t realised how dark it had become.

The steps grew louder. Sauvanien leaned forward, gauging the distance to the next platform below. A fair drop… but if this is trouble approaching, at least I know I have a way out. The prospect of letting herself fall from such a height was less daunting than the approaching footsteps. She stood then, and turned, watching the top of the stairwell.

A tall man crested onto the platform, clad in layers of robes, his eyes fixed firmly on the stars. He was walking fast, and paced back and forth across the platform muttering to himself. He barely seemed out of breath after the long and apparently hurried climb. He either looks alot older than he is, or he is incredibly spritely for his age. Sauvanien watched the strange man as he checked a small device on the end of a silver chain. She hesitated, barely breathing.

Eventually, the old man spotted her - after nearly bowling her over. "Oh goodness! I do apologise, young lady. I haven’t missed it have I?" He returned to watching the sky, his eyes screwed in concentration. "My meeting with Cavarubios ran over, you see. You never heard it from me but by all the tomes of Tymerius that man is dry! A brilliant man, of course but…"

He stopped, noticing Sauvanien staring at him warily. She took a careful step back towards the edge of the platform. "My apologies! Listen to me, rabbiting on like we aren’t about to witness the heavens themselves aligning before our very eyes! I am Gannon Mathiasson. And you are here for the eclipse, no?" Holding his hand up to the night sky, he smiled at her. There was a harmlessness to his features that put Sauvanien at ease.

"I worried that the cloud cover would spoil the view, but it seems we may be fortunate. I doubt we will see the whole event, though I still hope to catch the lun’atisse."

She missed Gannon’s sidelong glance at her as she looked skywards once more. They were silent for a time, watching the scene above. It was a quiet night, with barely a breath of wind to disturb the upper canopy.

Sauvanien sat once more, this time cross-legged on the timber floor. Gannon did likewise, his long legs tucked awkwardly beneath him.

"Oh! I almost forgot…" He fished around in his robes, then pulled out a set of intricate eyeglasses. "With these, we may just see the lun’atisse after all. Here, try them on."

Suavanien hesitated, then reach out for the glasses. What is this old man’s game? Is he… "Oh wow…" Suavanien fiddled with the mechanism on the side of one of the eyeglass rims, slowly turning the disc implanted there. Through the lenses, the stars, and even the moon, moved as she wheeled it, as if she were controlling time itself. "Incredible!" Taking off the glasses, she inspected them more closely. "This is some clever magnification. And light redirection, I guess. I can’t even begin to imagine the time this took to calibrate!"

And they were off. First covering the how’s of Gannon’s magnificent eyeglasses, then the where’s of the eclipse to come. Before long they had moved on to other subjects...

...


…

Sauvanien lay on the platform now, still mesmerised by the stars. Gannon paced nearby, tweaking the settings on his eyeglasses.

Sauvanien continued. "The songs from home are, as you say sir, sorrowful, for the most part. And until recently I never understood why that was. I mean, yes, there is sorrow in the world, but shouldn’t it be the gay moments that are sung aloud in celebration?" Sauvanien took a breath, thinking of home. Sighing, she sat up to look over at the dotted lights of Myth Drannor, and wondered if Miruviel was down there. "Now I understand why the sad songs persist... She looked at Gannon once more. "If you don’t mind me asking, sir, what do you think it is that makes a note sound sad, or a progression of chords sound joyful?" She had probed him with a dozen such questions already, but his responses seemed to suggest that he didn’t mind…

...


…

Sauvanien whispered… "So that is what I meant by clarity, sir. Do you hear how it is more clear when the copper is spun like a spring, rather than straightened out like a needle?"

Gannon, who now sat on the rosewood bench several levels below Sauvanien, replied, and the elf heard his voice whispering in her own head. "Yes, yes… quite the improvement, no doubt. And you understand why that is, don’t you? That lucidity?" His voice, of course, was as if he had been seated right next to her, whereas hers, she knew, was still crackly and imperfect despite her best efforts.

Sauvanien waited for a moment, thinking. She twisted and straightened the length of copper between her fingers as she considered the question. "It is because of how sound propagates. The copper relays the information to where I want it to go, but some of it is lost… somewhere. Looping the copper helps to retain the information." She nodded, satisfied that she had solved the puzzle. She enjoyed the mental workout - it had been so long since she had turned her mind to her studies, so focussed had she been on finding Miruviel.

Gannon’s voice sounded once more. "Interesting answer. And you are right, in a way. But not altogether correct, as it were." Sauvanien’s face furrowed in frustration and confusion. She hated being wrong. "You see, the copper in fact acts as..."

...


…

With the eclipse behind them, and the chill of the night taking hold, the green elf and the ageing wizard stood facing one another against the deep blue backdrop of the night. Gannon extended a hand. "It has been a pleasure, Sauvanien. Not many have the patience to gaze starward."

Sauvanien took the old man’s hand and felt the lines of decades scratched upon them. "Thank you for showing me the eyeglasses, sir. And for explaining how the copper works. And… well there were many things. Thank you."

Gannon watched her for a moment, not saying anything. He released her hand. "There is a joviality in your eyes, Sauvanien Miritar, but it is buried deep. I hope that you can free it. You are a bright elf, and so I believe that we will meet again. Fare well, and remember-!" He leaned in conspiratorially. "-you never heard it from me that Cavarubios is a boring old toad." He turned away, and began to descend the tower without a hint of stiffness or fatigue.

And for the first time since Miruviel’s exile, Sauvanien smiled from her heart.

The election festival had promised crowds, and though that made Sauvanien extremely uncomfortable, it also promised people. And people talked. Surely someone would have seen sign of the young green elf boy that had come to the city. The festivities themselves were more confusing than entertaining to Sauvanien; why anyone would want to put fire in their mouth was something that she would never understand.

On the penultimate evening, having seen or heard nothing of Miruviel, Sauvanien was dispirited to the point where she almost never attended the night’s festivities. But the possibility of spotting Miruviel's shining brooch within the crowds was all too tempting, albeit seemingly hopeless. She attended all the same.

She noticed that there was a barely contained anxiety amongst the younger folk gathered. By comparison, those lucky few that had already been appointed to mentors seemed relaxed and carefree. Tomorrow would be a big day for the hopeful candidates. A chance of a new life, a new profession.

Sauvanien idly wondered which of the rich noble’s sons from her class Gannon would pick were he to take part in the apprenticeship programme. He had intimated to her before that he was not interested in the idea, so he doubted he would. Still, the crowd seemed hopeful, and whispers rumoured that the Knight Prince himself would be among those taking on apprentices.

After completing a cursory scout of the festival grounds, Sauvanien slumped down against the bole of one of the few trees in the castle grounds. It was a thin bond with her homeland, but a connection all the same. Bark and leaf let off a feeble aroma that reminded the young elf of climbing in the trees back home, but the effect was spoiled by the suffocating wafts of crackling firewood and spilt ale. Her chosen seat offered a poor view of proceedings, but she didn’t care much for them anyway. It was Miruviel that filled her thoughts; running with him along the maple boughs, hiding amongst the canopy leaves…

A glint of firelight coppered silver caught her eye. A figure was weaving amongst the crowd nearby, a cloak of green drawn up overhead, secured by a silver leaf brooch.

She was amongst the crowd before she even remembered standing up. It was Miruviel. It had to be. It…

It was the thief. Sauvanien spotted her feigning a stumble and falling into a young man. She came away with a pouch of coin in hand, and slipped away further into the crowd. Sauvanien followed, trying to determine the best way to proceed. She did not relish an open confrontation, not after how the last one went. She considered a simple trick that she had learned in one of Gannon’s classes, and ran through the steps required as she followed.

The thief was nearing the edge of the crowd, and the safety of the darker streets beyond. Sauvanien, heart thumping at the prospect of casting the spell for something other than a demonstration in class, held forth her hand, palm facing the ember mote sky. She set her fingers in the appropriate positions, then slowly drew her thumb and middle finger together, all the while speaking the relevant incantation. Her fingers trembled from the effort, and her words melded together a little too slickly. She was surprised therefore when the spectral outline of a hand materialised before her, a mirror image on top of her own. The thief had made further progress and was hurrying away from the crowds now.

Taking a breath, Sauvanien willed the hand forward, and tried to focus on maintaining the shape and substance of the conjured assistant. She could see its outline was frail, and it kept getting blown gently apart by the breeze. As people swelled around her, Sauvanien held forth her own hand, imitating the desired pose of the conjuration, willing it to remain whole. As it moved forward she likened the sensation to pushing a spoon through a thick batter. Her arm strained to maintain the direction and elevation. In the back of her mind, Gannon's words echoed something about the conservation of arcane energy.

Eventually the hand reached the thief, and Sauvanien directed it to reach for the brooch. Closing her eyes she concentrated, manipulating the fingers to undo the mechanism. Sweat broke out on her brow. She felt the fastening needle loosen, and made a grab for the brooch.

But there was nothing. The thief had moved beyond the range of the spell, and the spectral hand had dissipated up into the smoke of a torch.

Her brooch disappeared down an alley and out of sight.

 

 

Alternate Mentors

Gronlim






Merith
 version 







Cavarubios