Fractures in a Dying World
Holy guy in search of the truth
Race: Sand Elf
OUT: I can fix shattered window panes without glue.
- Last Prophet +
- High Druid +/-
- Dragon Empress -
First Session: The first one, obviously.
The Xeph tribe are a secluded group of sand elves that live near Aziraja. Secluded, since not only do the dragons look down on them, but even the humans take little pity on them, an amplification of the races’ previous distrust. Though originally wood elves, sand elves quickly adapted to their new environment as the woods left en mass. Small wells were quickly identified and hidden from the visible eye. Routes across the dunes were memorized by way of memory and methods long lost to the Ages. Centuries of living in the Wasteland honed their already-sharp senses and allowed them to quietly exist where other races perished.
Keeping their settlements small to stay out of the Dragon Empire’s notice, they prefer to split off into a new settlement when populations become noticeable. When asked of the existence of any elven communities, elves tend to become even more silent than usual, leaving the area if pressed and fighting back until death if surrounded. This is because unclaimed oases are few and far between, not to mention the fact that humans spread secrets, lies, and blades with the same lack of restraint. Travelers lost in the desert will occasionally turn up in human settlements with an extra skin of water and missing a valuable or two. The more entrepreneurial among them occasionally visit towns to sell items recovered from the sands, but elves in human settlements are otherwise few and far between.
Yvruk [ɪv.’ruk (rhymes with nuke…)] is one of those elves, bringing in weapons and trinkets he finds during his “holy walks.” He started as a part-time priest simply because his father was priest before him and trained him in the clerical arts passed down to him from the previous priest. He believes in the gods and still worships the earth goddess Ernalda, even though some treat the gods as relics to be acknowledged but not honored. Ernalda herself has suffered a large drop to her worshipers, as the Wastelands completely lack the fertility and life she once provided. Yvruk longs to make a pilgrimage to the Last Prophet, wherever he might be in the Wastelands, and ask him how to return the presence of his goddess and the rest of her pantheon to this world.
Able to craft a fairly robust cactus wine, though he swears it’s nothing compared to his mother’s. Indirectly sells it through a semi-friendly guard to the draconic slave-mistress Thava for her personal use. Has a slightly younger sister named Alia who helps him guard his wares, in addition to a father, mother, and much younger brother, though none outside his community know of them.