Dedicated to a god of war, Donovan is the lumbering juggernaut at the heart of the party. Wading into battle for the cause of righteousness he strikes, and strikes hard.

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Ecthelion Gith’aren

My life before I began my training at the Temple of the Soaring Dragon was what one would expect for one of my race. Along with exposure to music, poetry, dance, sculpture, and the various arts, I was also well schooled in the arts of magic and swordplay. I had even planned to one day enter the school of magic and follow my father in the ways of wizardry. This was of until I first saw a traveling monk demonstrating his art. I was captivated and moved by the beauty and perfection of the forms. I knew that I had found the focus for my life.

I left my home and all that I knew, to follow the monk in the hopes of learning the arts he had so deftly displayed. After long months following Karachi on his journey we reached the Temple of the Soaring Dragon. Much to my dismay, my request to enter the temple as a student to learn their fighting arts was denied. Refusing to give up I sat down outside the gates to wait. Each day I would ask and each day I was turned away. This went on for a year and a day. Finally the abbot of the temple conceded to my request and I was allowed entrance as a student. From this point my life would never be the same. Each day was a challenge of self mastery as I was sent to do what seemed at the time dreary, mundane tasks befitting the lowest servant. This continued for over a decade. At the time this was an enormous frustration, but I was determined to prevail against what I deemed was a trial of my will and determination. While Elves are extremely long lived, I have to recognize what many other races view as flighty behavior in my people, and how such behavior is somewhat contrary to the rigid, ordered life of the monk. While I was not the first Elf to train at

the temple, few before me had proven to be truly dedicated students. What I had not first realized was how much I had actually learned and how well my labors had honed my body and mind during my 12 years of service to the temple. I exhibited a natural talent for the techniques taught to me by the monks, and my talents improved rapidly. Master Okuzaki, the abbot of the temple, for reasons I still do not fully understand took a great liking to me and I spent a large portion of my training under his direct tutelage. We spent many hours talking of the adventures of his youth, when he traveled to many distant and exotic lands. He is the reason I first decided to take to a life of adventure. Unfortunately there is more motive to my current life style than just a desire for adventure. During the last few years that I was at the temple odd things began to occur within the temple that could not be over looked. Contention seemed to bloom without warning among many of the students. Scheming and secretive plots emerged within the temple. All of this greatly distressed Master Okuzaki. After this point he became my sole instructor and, I became one of the few within the temple that he still trusted.

The end came on a bitterly cold winter night half a year later. In the deep hours of the night an unknown force assaulted the temple. The great iron gates were thrown down in a twisted wreck and dark forms emerged within the court yard through simmering portals. Many of the brothers of the temple fell as wave upon wave of the enemy flooded into the temple grounds. I watched in stunned horror as Master Karachi fell beneath the flashing blades of a creature twice the height of a man. I would surely have fallen next had it not been for Master Okuzaki. He plucked me from the thick of the battle, leaving a circle of dead enemies around were I had stood. We made our way to the wall of the temple, all the while the Master spoke of treachery from within the ranks of the Temple itself being behind this abominable act. We gained the ground outside the walls, but I slowed my Master too much and we were spotted by archers upon the walls. I am sure Master Okuzaki could have made the safety of the forest had it not been for me. He would not leave me and did his best to block the arrows as the rained down upon us in numbers uncounted. Alas, it proved too many for him. True to his word, not a single arrow struck me, sadly though he was pierced many times. When the killing rain had ended I carried my dying Master into the safety of the forest. Before his life gave out I swore to him that I would some how restore the honor of the temple one day, and rebuild it. I entombed his body within a secret tomb in the near by hills. I stayed there in meditation and mourning for many days and many nights. I have since viewed the temple from far off. It not longer a place of peace and learning, the place now carries a taint of evil, noticeable even from a distance. Rumor still regards the once beautiful Temple of the Soaring Dragon as an evil place to be avoided at all cost.

So now I travel where I can to learn more and to increase in wisdom and power so that I may one day fulfill my promise to my Master. I have looked in many places and consulted many sources, from everything that I can find, I am the last disciple of Gichin Okuzaki. If any other shows him self I cannot help but be suspicious of his reasons for staying hidden for so long.

DM's notes

Altasha is well versed in the ways of the blade as well as the art of her lute. Unfortunately, with all the trouble she finds, playing her instrument doesn't happen as often as she'd like. Maybe she will get around to composing some ballads when the subject matter isn't immediate.

DM's notes

Novak

A magic user who isn't shy about his nature, Novak seems to revel in displaying his magical powers; that and blowing stuff up. Put bluntly, overkill is not reserved for the warrior types when he is around.

Novak is pretty much an inactive NPC as Arlen has joined the Navy. Hopefully we'll be able to get in a game with him sometime during the holiday season.

DM's notes

A big, hairy werepolarbear from the northern edge of known space.

DM's notes