Derian Wyreth A wandering druid and his sassy lynx companion from the forests of Cormanthyr who live for adventure, friendship, and the good of nature.
|"It's a dangerous business, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no telling where you might be swept off to."|
|Age in 1373 DR||32|
| Class |
3.5 ed. rules
|Languages||Common, Druidic, Elven, Sylvan|
After having finally left his secluded home in the druidic settlement and achieving long-sought freedom, Derian is a bit more friendly and self-confident, enjoying meeting and talking to people, but not going out of his way to encounter them. Though relatively young, Derian is still the solid rock of slow patience he was when he was back with the druids, calculating carefully before leaping, but careful to not let overthinking cause him to miss an opportunity or risk his or his companions' health or lives.
Not the most charismatic druid you'll ever meet, Derian can be a bit too honest for his own good. If he doesn't like someone, he'll make it clear. If someone charms him, he doesn't hide his appreciation. But don't mistake him as slow or simple. Though not the best conversationalist, Derian has a shrewd eye for deceit. If someone isn't letting on the full truth, he'll recognize it. This same eye for detail and innate hunch have sprung Derian from many a perilous ambush and given him a knack for identifying magical items and different types of spells.
But despite his blunt honesty and sometimes frustrating patience, Derian is a likable soul. He has a genuine love of nature and life of all kinds that shows in his decisions, and is already quite wise and thoughtful for someone his age. He tends to prefer simpler animal and plant companions to excessively complicated (and sometimes quite destructive) human ones, but warms quickly to people who show him or nature due respect.
An adventurous, if solitary, soul, Derian is a bit self-interested. He loves to roam, meeting different forests and faces, appreciates the odd adventure and scrap, but doesn't mind lolling in a sunny tree all day if possible. Though he prefers to stay out of complicated, confusing human matters, Derian recognizes an importance in mediating their sometimes trifling problems, especially if nature is at risk or a life is senselessly in danger. If a village Derian is passing through is having a wolf problem, or a noblewoman is captured by trolls while Derian's nearby, he'll often be the one to help soothe ruffled feathers and avoid bloodshed on both sides.
Derian has medium, wavy brown hair that reaches down to his chin, and a light, scruffy beard of the same color. His eyes are a darker brown, and his skin a light tan. He never seems to laugh, and it's hard to catch him smiling broadly, but he has a subtle sense of humor that is reflected in his twinkling eyes. At six foot, 170 pounds, Derian is tall and formidable, while still remaining lean and lightly muscled from his living in the wilderness.
Derian dons a well-worn leather armor set; a loose tunic, comfortable greaves and boots. He avoids helmets and bracers when he can, and if he doesn't expect a fight, his greaves as well, trusting his calloused hands more when they're not encumbered by armor. He wears a long, dark green shirt beneath his tunic, with sleeves that tie at the elbow. Dark brown trousers are tucked into equally brown boot cuffs. A simple sling is tied around his waist and Derian uses his oaken quarterstaff as a walking stick.
Derian roams the land trusting his wilderness knowledge to travel lightly. A few pouches at his sturdy belt hold flint and tinder, a fishing hook and line, a net, some small rations, a few components for spell casting or first aid, and several bullets for the sling. A small dagger is stashed in one boot, not for battle but for various chores that involve cutting or slicing.
Early Life - In the Druid Settlement Edit
For most of his young life, Derian lived in quiet, tranquil day-to-day peace in the small Sylvanus-worshipping druidic settlement that was his home. Derian never knew his human mother, and his elven father had disappeared or died right after delivering him and bringing him to the settlement; the druids were never very specific. In fact, all Derian knew about his parents were that his father bore the same name as him. Despite the odd mystery surrounding his birth and circumstance, the druids took him in without complaint and raised him as one of their own. Thus, Derian grew up with a love of nature and life implanted deep in his soul and instilled with the sturdy, patient personality that all druids of the timeless settlement eventually acquired.
But despite his elvish blood and his tolerance for the passage of time, Derian was also very human. As he grew, so too did his imagination and longing to see the world outside the curtain of trees that veiled his tiny home. As his druidic training advanced, his sense of nature widened, and his affinity for magic flowered. Though he had an uncanny accuracy and knack for all spells the druids taught him, he found that his best talent laid in his ability to Speak and communicate with just about any living thing.
Appreciating the simplicity of Animal and Plant speech, Derian found that he liked their mindsets more then those of his druid family. While the Druids frittered away their years in the same place doing the same things, animals migrated and congregated, battled and rested, mated and reared their young. Even the old towering trees in their old, gray mantles of lichen and moss rumbled of far off places that passing travelers would speak of.
Even with all the temptations of the outer world passing through his restless, pointed ears, even with the faint winds of change that would occasionally buffet the edges of the forest, Derian's faithfulness to his foster family and Sylvanus would have kept him at home if not for one incident. To put it bluntly, this particular group of druids were very isolationist. Tucked away in an out of the way part of the forest, lost travelers and passersby were few. Whatever children that were born there, stayed there. Any being that came too close was indirectly steered away from the settlement by the druids. No one came or left.
In the high afternoon parts of one day, when the druids retired to meditation and other boring activities, Derian, an able 27 years old, quietly slipped away from the settlement. Druids would occasionally go beyond the edges of the settlement itself in order forage for food for the group, or for further isolation, so Derian's silent leave went unnoticed.
Something was whispering through the forest. Derian could hear it in the winds at the top of the impossibly high canopy. And more importantly, the animals knew about it. Trees and foliage, slow beings as they were, would converse about subjects that had occurred years before, but animals were less rooted to the ground. Over and over, the same words were repeated amongst green things and tongues of all sizes;
"Human. Female. Nearby."
Unable to tamp down his growing restlessness, and nursing a growing frustration with his slow-moving family, Derian moved to investigate the source of the forest's murmur. At times he would ask a nearby animal for help, alter direction. At last, as Derian broke into a small clearing, he found the source. An older woman was resting with her back against an oak tree, her eyes closed.
Her clothes were ripped and stained. Dried blood at the tears revealed that she had stumbled quite often in her trek through the forest. Rooted to the ground, Derian realized that this was his first time seeing someone outside his own druidic community. She had blonde, graying hair that rested lightly on her shoulders, and despite her apparent age, she seemed to glow with inner youth. Taking a few cautious steps, Derian approached the woman, who woke as he grew near.
She stood quickly, eyes wide and backed away. With a shock, Derian realized her ears were round, much smaller than his own; a human!
She spoke a few words, what sounded like a question, her eyes darting across his figure. With a sinking feeling, Derian realized he couldn't understand her. As they both regarded each other, the boy wondered if she was lost. As he was considering showing her to the forest's edge, she spoke again, this time in choppy, awkward Elvish.
"Derian. Druid camp."
Derian froze, stunned. As halting as her speech was, these three simple words were undoubtable. This woman had just spoken his name. She knew him. He couldn't understand what she was saying, but the druids must. They would be terribly angry at his bringing an outsider into their midst, but it happened before hadn't it? Confused and heart racing, Derian gestured the strange woman to follow him, mind wheeling at who she was, what language she spoke, where she came from, and what it was like there.
After a few silent, stumble-filled hours, they both broke through into the cluster of dwellings that was the druid settlement. It was nearing towards sunset, and the entire village was in the middle of evening prayers, and every single member turned and stared as they entered. Feeling his cheeks burning, Derian forced himself to walk towards them, the woman a few cautious steps behind.
"She wanted to come here. She knows about this settlement," he said. As the moments of silents stretched, tension straining, the leader of the group came forward, fire burning in his eyes.
"And you broke all rules of this shrine for the whims of a curious human?" he said, rumbling voice never raised but striking all the same.
Without another word to him, the tall, gray-bearded leader turned to the woman and began to speak to her in the language Derian couldn't understand. Anxious minutes ticked by as the conversation grew more and more heated. Derian's name was mentioned twice more. One comment left the druid silent, regarding the brave woman with a mixture of disgust and anger. He turned toward Derian.
"Leave. Now. Go patrol the opposite edge of the forest and return later tonight." he said. Derian looked from the woman, all round brown eyes and trembling lips, then walked across the village and dashed into the forest, confused at the rebellious anger that tempted him to disobey the one person he knew he couldn't.
Hours later, when the forest was pitch dark, Derian returned. The woman was gone, and the others had gone off to meditate, sleep, or walk through the forest. Only the leader remained. When the young half-elf asked for her whereabouts, he learned that she had been given an elixir that promoted short term memory loss, and led to the edge of the forest. When Derian demanded to know how she had known him, he set his mouth and glared the youth in the eyes.
"She was your mother, and knew full well what punishment she faced upon entering our settlement again. The longer she stayed here the more she risked revealing the path here to others. You must never see her again." he said simply.
Derian opened his mouth but no words came. At last, he spoke. "Then let me risk you no longer." Before the leader could say another word, Derian was in the forest and away.
The forest was expansive, and though the seeds of rebellious youth had several years growing, he had still never ventured beyond the comfort of his arboreal home. At times he had come close to the forest's edge, but the druidic head had forbid any to leave the forest. As he approached the thinning tree line, he realized the weight with which is decision had. The only life he had known was behind him. In all honesty, he didn't know too much about civilizations beyond those of the elvish, and wasn't even sure if this was what he wanted.
His patient sensibility told him that he didn't have much of a choice. He wanted to find his mother again, and if he stayed he knew he would never be able to do that. It didn't take long to dawn on the young, brown-haired youth that he would eventually have made this same decision eventually, and was glad it had been sooner rather than later. Assured by this, he stepped beyond the trees.
Post Druid Settlement - Acquaintance with the Outside World Edit
It took Derian until his first step outside the shelter of his forest for him to realize that he didn't have a single clue where his mother had been left. Though he had never walked around it, Derian knew enough about the inside of the forest to know that it was very large, and that by the time he found her tracks they could be hours or even days cold.
It was a little past dawn, the pink was just starting to leach out of the sky. Derian wasn't sure how potent the Elixir that his mother had been given was, or even what it really did. But he knew a confused, defenseless woman in the open was an invitation to danger, and he was desperate to find her, to finally get answers to the questions he'd had.
For more than half a day Derian followed the forest's border east, weaving in and out of the tree line. He wasn't really expecting to find tracks from the druids - nature's children were nearly untrackable - but those of his human mother. When the sun was dipping toward the opposite horizon, and when Derian was starting to believe that he was on an impossible mission, he found what he was looking for. A hundred yards from the treeline was a set of human footprints being led away from the forest. Careful to avoid stepping on the precious trail, the druid followed the meandering trail of prints away from the forest and towards a beaten path several hundred yards away. The prints were confused, staggered. Oftentimes they double back on themselves, only to continue back to the path. His heart beat faster as the tracks grew fresher. By now they had hit the path and were following it east; a stable trail that curved north of the forest. Where was she going?
And then Derian finally saw her. As he rounded a bend past a thick grove of birch trees, pushed off to the side of the dusty path was a sight that shattered him. Spattered with blood, practical clothes torn in a dozen places and bruises forming on what was, a day ago, a beautiful, white face, a woman lay on the road. As Derian checked her pulse, one eye fluttered open and focused on him, the other was too swollen to work. Mind failing him for a second, Derian could only stare into that single orb, a shade so similar to his, mouth half-open with wonder.
"Mother," he said in Elvish. She opened her mouth, every exhale bringing up blood-flecked foam. The bubbling meant punctured lungs or stomach, a grievous wound in itself. Derian's mind snapped back into place at this realization. His mother was dying. He tore off his tunic and shirt, drawing the dagger from his boot and slicing strips from the soft cloth. First, stop the bleeding. After that... Derian was overwhelmed by panic as he struggled to remember his first aid advice from the druid's healer.
"Derian, stop," the woman gasped in halting Elvish. Derian stopped, desperate to hear her quiet words. "Bandits. No help."
Derian's brow furrowed at the unusual word. The other druids would use that word as synonomous with thievery or senseless violence. No animal had done this damage, but that meant humanoids would have been the culprits. Human bandits had done this to her. It was a crushing realization of a human's capacity for violence. Why did this happen?
"Follow the setting sun," she continued, squirming in pain. "Hillsfar. Find elf named Andovar. Father's friend." With a shudder, she closed her eyes and grew still.
Derian laid there for a long while, as the sun slipped below the horizon and the stars poked out. He could only think of one thing.
"I never even knew her name."
Derian spent the rest of the night digging the grave. He slept until just after dawn, then set off west, following the beaten path. After a days travel, he entered the city of Hillsfar and was nearly overwhelmed by the size, sights, and smells of the busy town. After walking about the city for an hour, trying to fit this unbelievable reality into his once small, quiet interpretation of the world. He soon found a tavern and, after a word with the bartender, was motioned to a back corner where he found a Wood Elf deep in his cups.
Derian introduced himself, and after a lengthy, revelating conversation for them both, found that Andovar Oakensong had been one of his father's closest friends. His father, an elven ranger born and raised in a human city in the Western Heartlands, had been an adventurer at heart, as restless to see the world as his son.
When he had met Derian's mother, Sarah Orthelius the only daughter from a well-to-do, upper-level human family, in Hillsfar, they had instantly fallen in love. Due to Sarah's disapproving family, the two lovers were forced to court in secret, but when Sarah became pregnant and fathered a son, the father became enraged. The two fled towards the forest, Sarah's father's men behind them. Derian knew a group of druids in the area whom he had rescued from a dark force several years before, and he knew the only way they could save the child was by leaving it with the druids. If their pursuers ever dared to enter the forest, the druids would be able to redirect them. Although displeased with the sight of outsiders, especially a human, the druids agreed to take the child as long as it didn't threaten their quiet settlement.
Upon leaving the forest, and wondering what their next step would be, Derian was separated from Sarah. Within hours he had been captured by the enraged father. He was dragged back to the city and executed for numerous charges of rape and assault, despite Sarah's desperate pleas. That very night she had disappeared and never returned to Hillsfar. Though many went in search of her, none came back with any clues to her whereabouts.
Derian stayed with Andovar for the night and the two became quick friends. The Wood Elf lived as a simple but efficient carpenter and invited Derian to stay as long as he needed. In the days ahead the Elf taught Derian about the strange world he was now living in, about money, about the Common language, different professions, how to live and thrive in the place called "civilization". In that time, Derian also thought about what to do next. In the end he decided that his tenure with the sheltered druids was finally at an end. He wanted to see the rest of the world beyond his forests, meet more good people like his mother, like Andovar. After a few weeks of rest and preparation, Derian said farewell to his new friend and left the town of Hillsfar for the west, eager to start his new life.
Winter's Wind the Eurasian Lynx Edit
|"What are *you* looking at, two-legs?"|
|Home||Previously in the Cormanthor Forests, now follows Derian|
|Age in 1374 DR||4|
Winter's Wind is a four year old Eurasian Lynx who lived in the Southeastern edges of the Cormanthor forests along with her parents, three siblings, and a few others that stuck to their group for protection and food. She was named so when she was only a few months old by her mother for her extraordinarily biting attitude. Though she lashed her tongue at the others and, if it pleased her, anything in her way, she was a less than average hunter. She took what she wanted from the others' kills and hunted when it suited her, rarely bringing back anything for the group.
When she turned a year old, her mother kicked her from the nest, telling her to bring her grievances to a new family. The lone cat sulked about the forest for several days, catching what food she could, when she came across a lone person making his way through the forest. Curious, she followed the stranger to a small clearing where he stopped. Another person was standing in the clearing. The two exchanged a few words and, as the conversation began to heat, Winter's Wind decided it would be better to leave before she got caught in something she didn't want to be in.
As she turned, she saw, coming out of the brush, a snarling wolf, an ocelot, and several large snakes. Turning back to the druid she had followed, she saw that one of the snakes, a very poisonous one, was creeping towards his boot heel. Yowling, she launched herself at the snakes, biting it's neck before it could retaliate. The man turned around in surprise and realized the pack of animals creeping up from behind him out of the forest. As Winter's Wind dashed out of the way, the druid aimed his heavy walking stick at several the animals, knocking them out with several solid thuds, showing surprising dexterity and light-footedness.
When he had finally finished, he turned to realize that the rogue druid had disappeared into the forest during the skirmish. Winter's Wind was crouched against the tree line, gnawing on her kill, when the brown-haired man stepped towards her.
"You saved my life back there, great cat. Thank you," he said. The lynx leapt to her feet. She knew enough about humans to know that she didn't really understand any of their language. How was he speaking to her in her own speech?
"I was hungry," she hissed suspiciously, hair rising on her neck, "and you weren't paying attention. You're lucky that other human's pets didn't kill you."
The man chuckled, rather than scowled at her angry words, surprising the feline. "That I was. Thanks to you, I'm alright. But I need to find that rogue druid and stop him from hurting more innocent animals and people, so I'm afraid we'll have to part ways rather quickly. Farewell." he said, stepped into the forest and disappeared.
The lynx blinked after his departure, curiosity piqued despite herself. She wasn't too sure what rogue druids had to do with anything, but she knew she wanted to follow that man.
Though the man didn't seem to leave any tracks the "rogue druid" he spoke of must have, because she found a set of bootprints that would fit his size and weight. She followed their trail through the brush, wondering why she was so intrigued with the kind man. After an hour of following the tracks, she stopped, her sensitive ears picking up movement up ahead. There, sitting against a tree and apparently asleep, was the druid that had attacked the man from earlier. She looked around, an electric tenseness rushing through her, wondering if the man would also be here.
A moment later, her ears picked up the softest scuffling she had ever heard. Another moment, and the tall man was in front of the druid, walking stick brandished. He spoke a few words and the sleeping druid stirred. Winter's Wind realized his mistake only an instant before he did. Down from the top of the tree, a jaguar sprang onto the druid, knocking him solidly to the earth floor. As the druid stood, Winter's Wind launched herself at him. He wouldn't kill that man! She bit into his neck, claws gripping into shoulder and feet kicking at upper arm, leaving bloody furrows. The druid screeched, punched her solidly on the nose and swung her away. As he drew a dagger and stepped towards her, anger flaring in his eyes, vines and roots shot up from the earth as if alive, coiling about his boots, crawling up his legs and wrapping around his torso. The other man had knocked the jaguar away and was on his feet, quarterstaff in hand.
"You save me again, wildcat," he said, beaming warmly at her. The other druid spat curses at him, wriggling furiously. The kind druid removed some rope from his small pack and set about tying the other druid's hands together, ignoring the roots and vines that writhed around them. "This one has been attacking travelers and violating his druid name for quite some time now. Thank you in helping me capture him. I need to bring him back to the city he left, you're welcome to join me."
Winter's Wind arched her back slightly, claws digging into the duff beneath her paws. Was this a trap? "Humans stink. I'd rather not," she growled, then snapped her mouth shut. She had meant to say something a little more polite. Her mother was right, she did have a biting temper. The friendly druid smiled and turned away, his human bundle over one shoulder.
"Wait! I never caught your name," Winter's Wind called, hesitant. "I'm Winter's Wind."
The druid looked back at her, "Wind, a beautiful name for a magnificent creature. I'm Derian. Thank you again," he began to walk away. The lynx, feeling strangely embarrassed, trotted up beside him and followed. "I might as well make sure nothing else tries to kill you before you leave," she muttered. Derian only chuckled.
And so Derian gained his first animal companion and Wind found her first friend. The two taught each other much and came to rely on each other. She gradually learned Elvish and Common and, after following the patient druid for three years, warmed a bit. But only towards him.
Character Sheet Edit
Name: Derian Wyreth
Class/Levels: Druid (6)
Alignment: True Neutral
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Strength 11 (+0)
Dexterity 14 (+2)
Constitution 12 (+1)
Intelligence 12 (+1)
Wisdom 17 (+3)
Charisma 9 (+0)
Height: 6' 0"
Weight: 170 lb
Eyes: Dark Brown
Hair: Light Brown; Wavy; Light Beard
Total Hit Points: 20
Speed: 30 feet
Armor Class: 12 = 10 +1 [padded] +2 [dexterity]
Touch AC: 12
Initiative modifier: +2 = +2 [dexterity]
Fortitude save: +5 = 5 [base]
Reflex save: +4 = 2 [base] +2 [dexterity]
Will save: +8 = 5 [base] +3 [wisdom]
Attack (handheld): +4 = 4 [base]
Attack (unarmed): +4 = 4 [base]
Attack (missile): +6 = 4 [base] +2 [dexterity]
Grapple check: +4 = 4 [base]
Light load: 38 lb. or less
Medium load: 39-76 lb.
Heavy load: 77-115 lb.
Languages: Common, Druidic, Catfolk, Elven, Sylvan
Appraise Int 1 = +1
Balance Dex* 6 = +2+2+2 [agile]
Bluff Cha -2 = -2
Climb Str* 1 = 0+1
Concentration Con 4 = 0+4
Craft_1 Int 1 = +1
Craft_2 Int 1 = +1
Craft_3 Int 1 = +1
Diplomacy Cha 1 = -2+1 +2 [half-elf]
Disguise Cha -2 = -2
Escape Artist Dex* 4 = +2+2 [agile]
Forgery Int 1 = +1
Gather Information Cha 0 = -2+2 [Investigator] +2 [half-elf]
Handle Animal Cha 3 = -2+3 +2 [animal affinity]
Heal Wis 7 = +3+4
Hide Dex* 3 = +2+1
Intimidate Cha -2 = -2
Jump Str* 1.5 =+0+1.5
Knowledge (geography) Int 1.5 = +1+0.5
Knowledge (nature) Int 6 = +1+3 +2 [druid]
Listen Wis 8 = +3+4 +1 [half-elf]
Move Silently Dex* 2 = +2
Perform_1 Cha -2 = -2
Perform_2 Cha -2 = -2
Perform_3 Cha -2 = -2
Perform_4 Cha -2 = -2
Perform_5 Cha -2 = -2
Ride Dex 4 = +2+2 [animal affinity]
Search Int 5.5 = +1+2 [Investigator] +1.5 +1 [half-elf]
Sense Motive Wis 4.5 =+3+1.5
Spellcraft Int 4 = +1+3
Spot Wis 6 = +3+2 +1 [half-elf]
Survival Wis 5 = +3+2 [druid]
Swim Str** 0 = +0
Use Rope Dex 2 = +2
* = check penalty for wearing armor
- Immune to magical sleep
- +2 racial bonus on saves vs. enchantments
- Low-light vision (darkvision if half-drow)
- +1 racial bonus on listen, search, and spot checks
- +2 racial bonus on diplomacy and gather information checks
- Spontaneous Casting (summon nature's ally)
- Animal Companion
- Wild Empathy
- +2 on Knowledge (nature) and Survival (already included)
- Woodland Stride (level 2)
- Trackless Step (level 3)
- Resist Nature's Lure (level 4)
- Wild Shape (level 5)
- Venom Immunity (level 9)
- A Thousand Faces (level 13)
- Timeless Body (level 15)
- High wisdom gains bonus spells daily
Class HP rolled
Level 1: Druid 8
Level 2: Druid 2
Level 3: Druid 1
Level 4: Druid 1 +1 to wisdom
Level 5: Druid 4
Level 6: Druid 1
Zero-level Druid spells: 5 per day :
First-level Druid spells: 4 (3+1) per day :
Second-level Druid spells: 4 (3+1) per day :
Third-level Druid spells: 3 (2+1) per day :
Permanent Spells: Speaking with Animals, Speaking with Plants
Equipment and Inventory:
In hand: Simple Quarterstaff
Other Weapons: Simple Dagger (In Boot)
Ranged Weapon: Simple Sling
On Belt: Decanter of Endless Water, Sling bullet pouches, spell components, survival trinkets