Bogrel Bugglebrim the Panicked Pusher of Balance, Bound for Yesteryear

Role

Chapter 8

Shadows coalesc on the surrounding stone walls and ceilings, a circle of
torches creating them from what was just moments ago stiffling darkness. As
the flicker of flames bounces softly, drawing closer, a soft repeatative
grumble can begin to be heard. What seemed like directionless mumbles and
crunching transforms
slowly into a rough mantra with obvious purpose.

The short musclular svirfnebli file into the chamber of rock to surround a
central foundation of stone. As they surround it with practiced precision, a
stumbling hunched figure is usured from the back and helped onto the growth
of earth that resembles a table. The crippling pain is obvious with her every
move, and it seems to take all of her will just to be helped up to lay
encircled by the droning svirfnebli, the flickering torchlight dancing off
their long rough spun robes adds to the dangerous ambiance of the situation.

Torches are raised and the chant crescendo's to ringing finality as the sound
of ultimate agony rips through the chamber. The echo of a death cry rings
softly into the distance, as all other sound seems to have been swallowed by
some ancient creature of lost lore. And then, softly, so softly, the most
pitiful whimper can just barely be heard above the echo. And then, gasps of
disgust and wary surprise.

Role

Chapter 7

Bogrel, the name given to the newest member of house Bugglebrim out of hardly
contained spite. Every single time Councillor Puglibiggle Bugglebrim gazed
upon his new son he shivered with cold hate. All that he had done for those
he loved, everything that he gave of himself, his time, his service, and in
the end even
the love of his still young life. And this is how the gods repay him, by
cursing him with a sickly demon of a child, so ugly it must be cursed, so
evil it must have killed his wife as she gave birth. And so Bogrel himself
was shunned before he had even opened his eyes.

Councillor Puglibiggle's influence on people was legendary, and that
influence had been used since his young days of study within Bedrubble Rock's
central academy. But alas for poor Bogrel, that influence was intentionally
focused away from furthering the Council's dispositions and the culture of
Bedrubble Rock.

Even from his youngest memories Bogrel new in his tiny weak heart of hearts
that he was despised by even those he had never met. He grew up almost
completely alone, and aside from his imaginary friends he had no one. Those
friends, and especially the giant fluttering rockspider named Flipple, kept
him alive and occupied for the most part. Bogrel would slink from rock to
rock on the outskirts of the stonefields where most of the boys played at war
and fighting, he would sit with his friends and watch intently, wishing day
after day that one of the older bigger boys would see him and motion him to
come play, but alas, that day
never came.

Role

Chapter 6

Young Bogrel had grown into his teen years slowly, with many a bump and
bruise to show for his accomplishment at remaining alive, despite all the
fortellings for his weakness and demise. He had even taken it upon himself to
initiate his own learnings with the few disgarded training weapons he could
get his hands on without anyone finding out. To wonder into the dark
dangerous caves, into the wilds outside of Bedrubble Rock, was his daily gift
to himself for growing up to an astounding two feet one inch in height.
Bogrel considered himself a young adventurer, and with his last childhood
friend Flipple to buzz along at
his side his wanderings continued day after day.

Unfortunately the Councillor Puglibiggle Bugglebrim had moved past paying
even the slightest attention to Bogrel, for the adventures became rather
routine and months of daily wanderings amounted to a growing comfort with the
wilds for the young small man. Many a day he would be in the deeper depths of
the tunnels, circling a large patrusion of stone stabbing at it with a small
dagger shaped piece of wood, to jump to one side and away again, and then to
snap the ragged length of nearly decomposed cave fern into the giant sized
rock.

One day, after many similar adventures, Bogrel was panting from the
exhausting exercise and chatting amiably with Flipple about the way he
continued to circle the giant monster time after time, stabbing continually
at it. Not until the lythe, tall, dark skinned man was fully kneeling next to
Bogrel did he notice that the cavern was full of these towering slender men.
And just as Fear ripped into Bogrel's heart of hearts and clamped its
crippling talons around his very soul, did the man smile so softly and say
"Well hello young man".

Skill List

Role

Chapter 5

Bogrel was astounded, and looking over at Flipple who was crawling out from
around the stalagmite to flutter his little thin wings nervously, he made up
his mind just then. Simple nervous conversation followed, with Bogrel mostly
listening until he had become comfortable with these tall men. The one that
had greeted him originally was the only one to do any talking, while the rest
the men milled about, some standing watch, some making themselves
comfortable.

It was not long before Bogrel had opened up completely to these men, after
all the one named Hrultiste refered to himself and all his men as not so
distant counsins of the Svirfnebli, saying that some even thought of them as
Svirfnebli themselves. Who knows how much time passed as Bogrel rambled, for
he lost himself in the rare interest of another living thing. Poor Bogrel who
had been shunned all his life gave every single piece of himself to this talk
with this strange tall man, to try to make him a friend, to be normal like
all the others.

Poor poor Bogrel Bugglebrim was so intent in just being like everyone else,
having someone to talk to, to play with, to befriend. The malicious
calculated persuasion of the drow was so effective on this accepting little
svirfnebli that hardly any effort was put into having Bogrel himself lead his
new friends home to see the marvelous Bedrubble Rock, and maybe to meet his
father. His dad would be so proud of him and may even begin to love him,
seeing that his son was indeed like all the other Svirfnebli children!

Role

Chapter 4

Tears streamed down the sides of Bogrel's thin face, to fall from his chin
and land only a mere foot with a soft plop upon the stone floor. Shivering as
he sat, with his arms curled around his knee's, listening to the screams all
around Bogrel could do naught but weep. He had done this, so foolish, so
pathetic, he had destroyed all those that he wished to be apart of, all those
that hated him. He had killed everyone, and even the very rocks themselves
were being thrashed and melted by thrown balls of flame and blasts of
lightning. All Bogrel Bugglebrim the traitor of his kin and the small man
shunned by all could do was sit and weep.

The destruction had slowed and the sounds of slaughter faded, and still
Bogrel sat and wept. He sat and rocked, Flipple on his shoulder hiding his
hundreds of eyes against his neck, sat and rocked. And then the boots came
into his downward gaze and stopped, Bogrel knew it was over, knew that he
deserved nothing more then to have the life ripped from his body for his
dastardly transgressions. One minute turned to three, to ten, to twenty, and
finally Bogrel looked up from the stone floor of his barren city. The lythe,
dark skinned man, Hrultiste by name stood over him, watching silently. Only
after Bogrel uncurled his hands from around his knee's to wipe tear stained
grime from his frail face did the man's dark features slowly twist into the
most deviously cruel smiles Bogrel had ever seen.

And so the drow drifted silently out of the carnage that was once known as
Bedrubble Rock and back into the depths of underdark tunnels from wench they
came. Bogrel was left to his own fate, with his own torments and torturous
thoughts. His childhood friend Flipple would not even look at him, and only
remained on his shoulder because maybe there was no other Svirfnebli left
alive for Flipple to retreat to. Time passed, Bogrel sat, his stomach rumbled
with hunger and his hands shook with weakness, but he would not move. And
finally, after who knows how many days Bogrel grew faint, he began to fall to
the side to rest on the stones of the only place he had thought to try to
love as home. Death must be coming for him, maybe then he would be like
everyone else and join them, maybe he would be bigger and stronger and his
mother would still be alive. The hellish stretching days of his life, all
that time where he was not accepted by even himself would be no more. And
then he saw the soft light growing into his vision, such large men walked to
him, so white, so gently, and thus Bogrel drifted of into the after life.

Role

Chapter 3

Gently flickering lights danced across the soft white as his skin was
carressed by cool drifting breeze. Bogrel's eyelids fluttered shut, and then
after a short time they opened once more, wider. The after life! So quickly
did he sit up that the room shifted and spun in a wide slow circle around
him.

Opening his eyelids slowly again, Bogrel decided that he would carefully try
to sit up this time. Rising up on his elbows he took in his surroundings.
Bogrel was in a room with two windows, white paint covered the ceiling and
walls, and what wasn't painted white was either white cloth, or white
furniture. Two openings in the walls covered with long white cloth which
fluttered as he felt the soft kiss of air on his rough skin. Heaven was
amazing!

It did not take long for Bogrel to realize the depths of his misguided
happyness. The tracking of the murderous drow was related to him, gently but
firmly he was told of the total and complete slaughter of his entire culture.
The tall white men spoke of their rescue of him with obvious pride, and how
they brought him from the depths of the tunnels to save his soul and rescue
his body. He would be fine with them, starting a new life and better life,
living their ways. And that is when Bogrel broke down in body shaking tears,
to relate all that had happened to him and all that he had done. He let
everything flow free, the hatred his culture had for him, even his father, to
the killing of his mother and the murderous spree that he had brought to his
city. When finally he was done, his sobbing slowed and his shaking stilled,
Bogrel looked up at the men whom had rescued him. So kind they had been and
so gently, and now.. that fiercely
prideful protection that he had felt from them was gone. The white men smiled
no smiles and cried no tears for Bogrel, they were just simply, there. One of
them stiffly patted Bogrel on the shoulder and said that he would be taken
care of, and then they filed out of the small room.

Role

Chapter 2

Weeks of icy polite conversations and simple meals later Bogrel was strong
enough to sneak away from his saviors. He knew from the moment he told his
story that they would never care for him or love him. The white men treated
him as carefully as one would handle a fragile object they wished to display.
Bogrel knew it would not be long before they too abhored his very being and
began to shun him for all that he was. Bogrel new from that very first day
that he did not belong here, and so he and Flipple snuck forth from the city
of the white men to find their own way.

Theft kept him alive long enough that he gained grudging admittance to the
martial guildhall of thera, to train to be a warrior. His days were simple
practice and rest, and his evenings where his own. It was on one of these
evening wanderings that Bogrel heard soft talk about the Island and its vault
of magic known as the veil. Creeping closer so quietly the smallest
svirfnebli listened to the continued tales of this great place. It was not
like those that sought destruction, nor those that upheld such perfection of
being. This place that was not like the others, that cultivated the weak ones
to strengthen them, this place above the Vault, it was his place he was sure.
And so Bogrel Bugglebrim devoted himself further to his studies to the very
point of traveling through the Academy itself. Despite his fear about being
shunned by all those studying in the Academy with him, Bogrel took it upon
himself to begin his learning of all these foreign people and cultures so
that he might finally find a place to be accepted. Though nagging terrors of
being shunned and despised by those he might actually find a place with, away
from those that murder and those that judge.

Role

Chapter 1

Bogrel Bugglebrim could not shake the continued feelings of deep despair for
all that transpired in the depths of his past, even despite all of his
accomplishments. With his childhood friend fluttering so close he had learned
of the cultures of surface Thera, learned how to fight and grown somewhat
within the guildhall that took him in when he had nothing. He had even gained
admittance to walk with those of the Island so that he might further what he
was sure he must do to make amends.

And still Bogrel could not dismiss the depression, though he had learned to
mask it well with shallow smiles and encouraging words.

One day Bogrel sat on the coast of the Sea of Despair, sat and thought. All
he had done for the past few days was sit and think, he could not even bring
himself to fight, merely slinking away at the urging of Fibble to go his own
way without confrontation. It was this day that Bogrel thought about all the
time he lived and how none of it was probably even worth the life of his
mother, not one single day. All that time, time where he was hated and time
where he was alone. And then, the word
time echoed in his mind as he sat, staring out over the Sea of Despair.
Time echoed and his gaze was caught by the floating island in the sky.
Time echoed and his gaze drifted down, past the base of the island.
Time echoed and he realized.

That day Bogrel smiled the second smile of his life, the first having brought
destruction to his entire civilization by his own hand. This smile though
would bring destruction to something else entirely! Destruction to his very
exsistance!

That day Bogrel decided his future would be his very lack of being. For his
thoughts collected and walked a path most would call obsurd. Down this very
path, one that he could tell to no one, he thin the veil so very drastically
the vault would unleash all its magical power. This wave of pure mana Bogrel
would ride himself into the past, to the point of his creation and stop his
very life from being kindled! None of it would ever happen and his mother
would live her life of joy, and he would never have experienced his every day
despair and contempt. And so, over looking the very Sea of Despair, Bogrel
stealed himself to gain the Magical Being Twist's very admiration so that he
might learn the way to ride the very Mana itself into his un-being.

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