Role

Chapter 1

Days east of Thera's charted lands, far beyond the swamps of the Valley of
Veran, and into the seemingly endless depths of the mountains that stretch
beyond the Mt. Kiadana, lays a great void ripped into the earth by the
separation of the prime material plane and the plane of magic. Before the
days of the 4th age, the mountains echoed with the industrial song of the
Svirfneblin, who resided in tunneled communities that stretched through the
mountain range. Those were days of great wealth, prosperity, and culture for
their kin.

Everything ended when the great void ripped through the mountains and
shattered the homes and tunnels of the Svirfneblin. Only a hand full of
families survived the violence of the event, but still many more fell to the
twisted creatures who began to emerge from the blackened depth of the void.
Vile beings with a sickened glow of pure magic clawed their way up the void
and brought destruction and death to anything in their path. Their gurgling
screams echoed throughout the remaining tunnels, accompanied by the pleas for
life from their victims.

Sweating heavily, Dhaer scrambles through a broken tunnel, stumbling on
rubble and remains of a broken city. A piercing screech of a pursuing
creature drowns out the soft whimpering of his young sister who tails behind,
clutching desperately to his brothers hand. A glowing wound drips polluted
red-blue blood from his sister's chest, and Dhaer struggles relentlessly to
pull her ever weakening body with him. The pair jut under a ledge of stone
and crawl through a soiled underground stream that had carved its way through
the rock. The heart stopping screams of the creature began to fall behind
them as the two crawled forward through the frigid waters.

Days later Dhaer emerged into the light, falling into the vile swamps of the
Valley of Veran. His sister had been unconscious from her wounds for nearly a
day, and dhaer was sure he wouldn't survive another night in the cold water.
Darkness fell quickly, and in a kind of surreal daze brought on by hunger,
fear, and desperation, Dhaer somehow managed to drag his sister and his own
failing body into the streets of Arkham. A robed man came running to his side
as he blacked out.

Dhaer Awoke days later, alive and well looked after, though his sister died
during the night. Her wound was held open by the magic that leaked from it.
Unable to face the pain of her funeral, held by the priests in Arkham, Dhaer
set off into the world, seeking escape from the pain and nightmareish
memories that haunted him.