Whildur Berrewellow the World's Student, High Herald of the Eternal Star

Role

Chapter 11

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Whildur has been enveloped by the winds of change, tossed about and
left standing nearly alone in an Inn often empty of fellow Heralds.

His normal cheerful demeanor and outlook on life is like a weathered
stone now instead of a bright new coin, worn down first by the loss of
Renize, and then Daphedee to old age. He manages to largely keep himself
up by remembering that life is a game, and the best way to play is by
loving life and adventure, whether you're winning or the losing day.

But even a sturdy well-weathered stone has cracks, and Whildur's mind
might be suffering from a hair-line fracture brought on by deeply buried
grief...A minor thing, and probably no cause for alarm. Would anyone
even notice if Whildur went slightly mad, anyhow? He would certainly
never be described as normal

Lately, he's been filling the lonely moments, when they pop up, by
re-creating conversations he's had with old friends--Gaspare, Renize,
Daphedee, mimicking their voices with an eerie perfection that only a
master lyricist and student of pitch and tone could manage.

He is, in a way, bringing ghosts alive.

For a moment...in the room around him, or as far as his voice carries.

The last time he talked to ghost Renize, she suggested a tea-party,
and Whildur thinks it is a very good idea. He just hopes that Gaspare
and Daphedee will be free at the same time to come join them!

The Inn has been busy with patrons, which is keeping him distracted
in a good way, and despite a run-in with Tiiga (Tiiga's fist ran into
Whildur's face) he has been very blessed and happy with life, and what
it brings. Despite trying fiercely to woo any young adventurer who might
be interested in the arts to join the Heralds, he's so far been unable
to drum up any new blood which is a bit discouraging.

Role

Chapter 10

The Ballad of Berrewellow -I-

There once was a gnome from Hillcrest,
Who wasn't quite like the rest.
Though he tried and he tried till mentally fried,
Maths and Magics he could not digest."

Frustrated, his professor would say,
Can't you please try to focus today?
But when he turned his back,
Swiftly Whildur would crack,
A new tale and start reading away.

Of his lacks were his parents alerted,
Academic failure MUST be averted!
Though they hemmed and they hawed,
Cried "Our child is FLAWED!,"
Whildur's passions could not be deserted."

At night when the boring would sleep,
Whildur out from his house would sneak.
Seeking out mirth and jest,
Though so rare in Hillcrest,
Dim-lit Taverns that pulsed with a beat.

Admiration he saw in the eyes,
Of the crowds that the singers would ply.
With a tune or a verse,
Improvised or rehearsed,
Spill poetry with coo and cry.

So he planned and awaited the day,
Tucked all his savings away.
He left Hillcrest behind,
Wiped a tear from his eye,
For the World young Whildur would play.

Role

Chapter 9

Life has been very fulfilling and busy for Whildur. Since he has
established himself as a reliable companion who can be counted on
to give a good performance under duress, he's been able to make
frends out of all manner of folk. Imperials, Villagers, Outlanders,
Islanders, Tribunal--even SCARABITES.

His reputation for rhyming all the time has made it so that folks
often approach him in a rhyming fashion, which he absolutely LOVES,
and it often enamours him with them immediately and makes him tend
to go out of his way to help them.

Recently, he got to talk to Raltevio for the first time in a long time
and it was WHONDERFUL! He said that the Troupe had carried word of
Whildur's works so far, and that his song "Stench Bull" had become a
crowd favorite. This reminded Whildur that although he had written
around five or six works about his trip to the Inferno, he still has
more work to do with what he saw, and he has to go back someday and NOT
be the sacrifice so that he can write a limerick about SATAN himself.

Raltevio said Whildur is doing a great job wandering and living on the
edge, sharing the religion of the Troupe with the world, which is good
because Whildur wasn't quite sure how he was doing in that regard.

Recently something VERY VERY interesting happened--The Scarabite Jeede
approached Whildur and made him an offer--to take him someplace few
mortals have ever drawn breath and to see Shadowed sights unlike any
gnome had ever seen. It would require complete secrecy on Whildur's part,
and all Jeede would say was that a long time ago, he was going to take
another Herald with him to see these sights before that Herald passed on,
never having a chance. Jeede also said that they have to wait for "The
shadows to align properly" before they could go, whatever that means.

Needless to say, this isnt' the only secret Whildur has been privy to lately.
Raltevio also made him the keeper of a VERY VERY VERY big secret, something
that Whildur feels is right up his alley, and that he is very honored to
get to do. And that is all Whildur will say about that.

Finally, Whildur found a fancy fiddle lately, and he's been learning to
play it, getting blisters but enjoying adding to his repertoire. He wants
to work on his dancing skills too, so that he can employ mimicry, dance,
rhyme, and song all in his performances.

Role

Chapter 8

A summary of recent life events as a Hero!

-Whildur had the opportunity to go to the Inferno seeking inspiration
for his poetry, hoping to see the unusual or wonderous and perhaps
get a nice jolt of adrenaline and excitement facing such danger.
It was quite an eventful trip, and despite being sacrificed by Revax
at the border of the 9th Circle it was still overall exciting...

-Whildur is working on an anthology of poems and stories that will
serve to transport the reader (or listener) into the adventure of the
Inferno without any of the beastiality, acid scarification, or charring.
He's written his way through to the 3rd Circle so far, and his current
finished works are a Limerick about Charon, a Limerick about Minos, a
cheerful song entitled "Stench Bull," and a lengthy Ballad about Cerberus
the three-headed hellhound (as a puppy.)

-He's been spending a lot of time working on publishing for Raltevio many
of his works, especially those he's written about people he's met in
his travels as a Herald of the Eternal Star. It bothers him a little to
try and put down a final, published piece, because he loves to tweak
his rhymes and try out new lines in songs he's composed and feels like
once it's written and sent off he can't improve it any more.

-After thoroughly reading through the Lyceum, he stumbled across a line
from the magical tome section about looking at things multidimensionally.
It's inspired him to try to work on his performances, taking them to new
heights of inspiration, working on his timing and tone, and also working
in his MIMICRY skill to add flavor to his songs and limericks, sometimes
even voicing the characters in songs by throwing his voice (poorly.)

-After experiencing Gaspare's transition through the Inferno and nearly
being killed by Zalgorborox the Mummy for impatiently helping some
Centurions move off of the Eastern Road, Whildur has decided that he
doesn't really like performing for the undead, and they make him a bit
nervous, which is the first he can say about ANYTHING. Their lack of
emotions, and thus Whildur's lack of anything to ply, makes it impossible
for him to smooth over conflict with wit and comedy, and that makes him
uncomfortable as he has spent his entire life being able to survive on
using his wit and other people's emotions to keep him alive on the edge
of danger. He ended up having to BRIBE the Imperial Dreadlord or risk
turning into a zombie himself--an event Whildur would rather try to
avoid given his distaste for undeath.


-Currently, Whildur can be found either rehearsing his songs and limericks,
performing or entertaining at the Inn, or wandering looking for things he
hasn't seen before in order to find more inspiration for his art.

Role

Chapter 7

A Summary of Relevant Events and Feelings

-Whildur has been spending a lot of time with Renize, and loves rhyming
her name with "fleas," which she doesn't seem to find very amusing.
she actually wrote a pretty good Limerick, which he recorded and will
publish someday.

-He's been finding that his presence and tendency to rhyme from time to
time (or a lot of the time) inspires others to try their hand. He's
been keeping track of the other limericks he inspires (and many of them
are even better than his own!) He doesn't mind being the butt of a joke
so long as it inspires someone else to create something!

-He has been training hard to not be a squishy, worthless punching bag
when things get rough in the Inn--he spent a lot of time working on
singing his songs while defending himself and getting punched in the
face by giant zombies. It paid off when Varnon attacked the Inn the
other day, and Whildur was brave and skilled enough to toss him out
and keep Daphedee safe!

-Whildur, in his travels, has found he likes all kinds of company and
the one thing he is always firm on is that he won't assault any Inn
or Tavern keepers, etc: He sees these establishments both as potential
future venues for his performances, and also wants to encourage the
idea that Inns and the like are safe places for people to relax and
enjoy art, whether it's good food, music, or other entertainment.

-Whildur has been trying to get to know as many people as possible--he
finds himself inspired to write poems and limericks about the quirks
in people's personalities, appearances, etc. In order to find that
inspiration first he has to dig deeper, make himself gain their trust
with his wit and dig without seeming like he's digging for information.

-He doesn't put much stock in the phrase "Good Luck," seeing life as a
game that you are bound to spend time both on the winning and losing
side of. Pining away for the good luck takes away your appreciation of
the game as a whole and doesn't let you appreciate the lessons life
teaches you when you lose. Raltevio told him that the world should be
his teacher, so he tries to keep this in mind.

Role

Chapter 6

Whildur has had an eventful few years! Since enrolling in the Bardic
Guild, he's met many interesting people, seen quite a few things worth
composing many a fine rhyme and limerick. He's seen a good deal that
touches him in that special place between his brain and his mouth,
the spot responsible for sorting through the dearth of material rattling
around in his brain, grabbing out the suitable words, and then passing
them onto his mouth in an organized fashion. This is what he means by
inspiration, and the more he does and sees the easier it becomes to him.

He met again with Daphadee the High Herald and has been accepted into
the Heralds of the Eternal star, where he can work on his performances,
get to know the Lyceum (more intimately than he has any interest in an
actual lover) and learn about what it means to be one of those in charge
of preserving the tales and events of the lands in artful form. He
found a book of limericks by a prolific past herald, and realized he has
a LOT of practicing, rehearsing, and polishing to do...but he is fine
with having fun during the process and maybe dropping a stinker now and
again. You don't ever really win without the possibility of losing!


He met Lord Raltevio, which was quite an awe-inspiring experience. Whildur
tried to take careful note of everything--how Raltevio held himself, the
inflection he placed on words in speech, the way he moved his hands to
illustrate and enrich what he was saying. A performer, and very polished,
Raltevio to Whildur is a role model. And also so brave! Whildur had a
croaking fearsome toad like creature threaten to fry and eat his toes,
but Raltevio promised the small gnome that he would protect his toes and
his other appendages as well from any flabby slobby snappy amphibious
carnivores. Whildur, it seems, is a tiny tempting target for all manner
of villains!

Whildur discovered to his surprise that he could actually defend himself
when it came down to it--realizing that if he sings really LOUD he makes
heads explode. A nefarious assassin struck Whildur by surprise, chasing
him down the road, determined to pummel the gnome to bits--but it was bits
of the assassin's brains that Whildur was picking up when he finally sang
the "Piercing Adagio." Captain Derek got dumb drunk, indeed, and so did
Whildur when he headed back to the Inn to be consoled by his fellow Heralds
after such a shocking experience. He got over the shock quickly enough,
reassured that murderers and thugs were common and that he was going to be
expected to be able to defend himself and patrons of the Inn, as well so
he should get used to it. Whildur determined to get tougher so he can
*gulp* bounce in the Inn if he needs to. So far the only bouncing he's
used to is the kind he does when he trips when he's walking downhill.

Role

Chapter 5

A requirement of the Bardic Guildhall is that apprentice minstrels
must appear at a certain number of public venues monthly to practice
their performances. Unfortunately, none of the NICE establishments
tended to want student performers since they didn't tend to draw large
crowds.

Many of these bars and pubs had cramped, poorly lit stages. What was
the worst, though, was the types of audiences that tended to show up.
Some were simply too poor to afford better drinks in finer bars. Most,
however, were the sort who enjoyed heckling unsuspecting performers.
They would bring ammunition in the form of rotten fruits and vegetables,
and some of the seedier establishments would even PROVIDE these things
to their patrons, hoping to draw a bigger crowd and earn a few more
coppers in drink sales.

Whildur, being a gnome, was prone to bruising easily. To others, an apple
to the head would be shocking, yes, and perhaps painful. To Whildur,
potatos and apples became deadly objects. He could tolerate this poor
treatment, but he soon grew tired of performing for an audience that
was more sadistic than appreciative of satire. One evening, after a
difficult performance for a rough crowd in the Ghetto of Ayr'Trinil,
Whildur stumbled out into the night to make his way down the long road
to where he was staying in Tir Talath. He didn't make it three steps
before he was jostled and felt a sharp pain in his side. He had been
STABBED!

"That's for calling my mother a she-orc, singer!." a voice mumbled
before the dark form slipped off into the night. The sleepy, drunk
looking bouncer standing a few feet away near the door never moved a
muscle.

Whildur groaned under his breath. "Never...said...MOTHER...said..
...a she-orc lived under a BOULDER." Then he passed out.


After this experience, Whildur decided what he'd really like is a place
to perform where the bouncers actually do their jobs, and where the
patrons appreciate an artist's effort because they are there for more
than to throw vegetables and take out their anger on strangers. He
is going to seek a permanent place at the Inn of the Eternal Star.

PK Gank-O-Meter

Role

Chapter 4

One day, Whildur was strolling through the Oneheart Plains when a man
approached, dark armor glinting in the sun. Dabrilli the Anti-Paladin
sauntered up and tripped the oneheart beastman standing near them
both, proceeding to repeat the process until the man was dead. Dabrilli
then turned to Whildur.

"That looked like quite a dance, the fellow never had a chance!" said
Whildur.

"I'm practicing for when I kick dirt into your eyeholes and trip you
when you try to run away." said the glaring Death Knight.

A thrill ran through Whildur's body at the prospect of his death at the
hands of this fellow. He could certainly make quick work of the gnome..
but Whildur's wit was quicker.

"Yes, you could do that with great ease if we are speaking true.."
"But wouldn't it be better instead to let me sing to you?"

What followed was an uneasy alliance, in which Dabrilli made many a
threat of what would happen should Whildur miss a note or forget a
lyric. It felt to Whildur as though he was dancing upon the edge of
a cliff, his wit, words, and rhyme the only thing keeping him from
dire consequences. It was, he found, quite a thrilling game. The
additional pressure drove him to perform more beautifully, keened
his focus and sharpened his wit.

Whildur, it seems, has a penchant for taking risks, daring to chance
the consequences for the potential excitement and rewards to be had.

After this experience, Whildur realized exactly how important it was
to rehearse before the performance. He's started making lists to himself
when he gets stumped on a rhyme. When he can't think of a word, he'll
repeat a bunch of rhyming words out loud to himself so the next time
he needs one they'll be ready on the tip of his tongue.

Also, although he rhymes often, he's learning how painful it is to
spout off any nonsense or drivel and have it be poorly received...

Role

Chapter 3

The Bardic Academy

The journey from Hillcrest to Galadon's Academy was long, but the two
gold in his pocket and the excitement for the unknown ahead made the
trip seem short to Whildur.

When he arrived and met the Bardic Guildmaster, paid his fee, and was
admitted, he had no sooner settled in to study his first song when a
nice man named Simon asked him to do an errand. And then Wilhelm..and
then Nicholas...Candi, Jeril..Wilhelm hardly had a moment to rest and
read with all the running and delivering he did! But in the end, it was
a boon that he went along with their games--eventually that road led
him to deliver a cask of ale to the Inn of the Eternal Star, where he
met Daphedee the High Herald. Though his first visit was brief, he was
overcome by how neat and clean and vibrant the Inn was. The bouncers
looked friendly and Olin actually gave him a free drink in thanks for
his work.

Whildur also met his first love that day. The Lyceum. He had only
heard of such a Library in passing, and while Hillcrest had plenty of
books, most were dry works on technical subjects. The Lyceum was full
of tales of heroes, poetry, works of history and art...one room of the
place contained more life and excitement and material than ALL of the
city he grew up in...he read all he could until hunger got the better
of him, then he continued on his journey, vowing to return and read
EVERYTHING.

Life as a minstrel was amazing. He had never imagined what he could
do with his rhymes and poems when he applied the rudimentary musical
rules he was learning to them. His words seemed to spring to life in
the very air, to his amazement and glee. Additionally, he had already
found his newfound prowess and flare to be a boon to his survival when
he was confronted by a murderous thug one sunny day...

Role

Chapter 2

In the evenings, when he should have been studying, he would either
lose himself in his preferred reading and ignore his class texts, or
work on writing his own simple limericks and poems and ignore the papers
that he should be writing.

Or...he would do his favorite thing of all things --sneak out
and visit the Longbranch Pub to see if any minstrels were passing through.
The one thing that was better to Whildur than reading what he loved was
actually hearing it and seeing it performed. Woefully, Hillcrest was not
on most travelling minstrels' regular circuits, so far out of the way.
It also wasn't very enticing to a performer, as most know gnomes do not
spend their coin freely and very few have anything more than a passing
interest in music.

Most evenings, Whildur only passed the Pub by, disappointed by the lack
of noise and merriment from within. He knew what he would find--tired
gnomes smoking their pipes, discussing either their work in the gardens
or the school or on any number of engineering or magical projects. If
only...but no...he would be foolish to stroll in and hope he could
entertain them with his meager store of tales and rhymes, or poorly
hummed songs...and so the longing for more...to be more...began...and
on these dark nights, as he passed by the towering and locked Hillcrest
gates on his way home, he couldn't help but dream of walking through
them to seek out training in the things that he loved...

Role

Chapter 1

Whildur was raised in an upper-middle class Gnome family of some noted
Academic standing in the Mages Guilds of Hillcrest. Both parents were
accomplished Professors and practictioners of the magical arts, and as
such pressured Whildur from an early age to excel academically. He was
taught to read at an EXCEPTIONALLY early age, digesting simple fairy
tales even as he yet digested milk from his mothers teat. As he moved
from swaddling cloths to britches, he moved from fairy tales to ballads
and simple rhyming verse.

He was a happy child, running about singing simple ditties and songs
about the things he saw around him--when he wasn't tucked into some nook
somewhere reading another Illuminated tale of far away people and places
doing far away things. He was clearly bright, and although he had an
odd habit of slipping into singsong rhymes from time to time in his
speech, it appeared to his parents and everyone else simply an amusing
sign of his precocious aptitude. Whildur noticed this fact, and was
often seen entertaining his parents' friends at social gatherings as
the star of the party, enjoying the attention.

Beaming with pride, his parents enrolled him into school a full year
early...where he promptly disgraced them all with his poor performance
in his studies. Mathematics, science, the magical arts...abysmal.
Despite his aptitude for the literary arts, he couldn't seem to force
himself to do well in his other courses...or even to really care.
He was charming, though, and his professors were soft on him because
he could talk his way out of most things and his amusing limericks
were never in mean spirit or disruptive in class. His classmates
liked him because he was able to make them all laugh, and he tended
to avoid conflict and defuse awkward situations with wit and humor.

Nevertheless, Whildur was not looking forward to the life his parents
would like for him to live, either a productive Wizard or member of
the storied Gnomen Academic world.

Immortal Comments

Immortal Comments

PK Statistics

Song List

Skill List

Title History

Arena Statistics

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Leveling History

Timeline

Mob Deaths

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