Mikallan Aerendyl
Physical Description
Body Features
He has a sleek but muscular elven build with dark bronze skin.
Facial Features
His face looks young and hopeful.
Identifying Characteristics
He was born with a single feathery wing. A genetic defect caused the second wing to appear broken and deformed (his father was a sun elf and his mother was an Avariel).
Apparel & Accessories
He is generally seen wearing white and green paladin armor. He carries a shield bearing an emblem with a downward pointing sword. A folded wing extends from one side of the sword while a thorny vine extends from the other side and coils around the sword.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Mikallan was born from an unlikely romance between his father, a proud Sun Elf, and his mother, an elegant and artistic Avariel (one of the last of her kind). While his mother was still pregnant, their clan was attacked. His father was killed protecting the clan while his mother took shelter in the temple where she went into an early labor. She died from complications shortly after, despite the best efforts of the temple healers.
Born with a defective wing, Mikallan spent his early childhood feeling broken and different. His mother’s death also left him wrestling with survivor’s guilt and struggling to find a sense of purpose and meaning. Though he often battled with despair, he also gained a soft spot for others like him, who were orphaned or live as anomalies on the fringes of normalcy.
Cared for by the communal clan, Mikallan grew to have a broad perspective of family. Though he was able to charm a wide array of personalities with his sincere (if sometimes slightly sad) smile, he would often take introspective journeys into the woods to contemplate life. Taking his birthplace as a sign, his search for answers continued to bring him back to the temple where he learned from the healers, hoping to prevent others from the same fate as his parents. Inspired by the ancients, he eventually took up the mantle of the Paladin’s, vowing to protect the natural beauty of life.
Mikallan’s love of art (a trait inherited from his mother) and his strong convictions to protect life, led him to a passion for crafting shields. In his early life, he began crafting wooden shields for other elves within his clan and became known for his intricate designs, weaving together symbols of life and nature into his work.
His desire to protect others drove him to practice combat tactics with the Paladin’s each day, joining them on occasional missions to protect the clan. After a particularly brutal battle that claimed the lives of many of his clansman, Mikallan despaired that his work was not enough and sought out methods to strengthen his shields.
Fascinated by the metal work of the dwarven crafters, he began studying ancient manuscripts about their work and culture. After learning what he could from books, he set out for the mountains, where he spent 10 years studying under a dwarven master smith, where he added sword crafting and other weaponry to his repertoire. Metal may have given him a new medium to work with but his work continued to reflect the natural and elegant elements of his elven eye.
While selling his work, he met a travelling merchant who spilled rumors of the death that plagued Idriell. Inspired by the tower of light in the middle of the settlement, he set out for Vareholm intent on fighting back the darkness and bringing hope to the hopeless.
Education
He was an apprentice of a dwarven master smith.
Accomplishments & Achievements
He saved a warhorse belonging to Boaz Hamison.
Failures & Embarrassments
He was killed by a giant minotaur skeleton while trying to save the life of said warhorse.
Mental Trauma
His head was severed from his body.
Intellectual Characteristics
Enjoys art and fine craftsmanship.
Morality & Philosophy
Believes in protecting life and shielding the innocent.
Personality Characteristics
Motivation
Protecting life.
Hygiene
He hasn't showered in a while...
Current Location
Species
Year of Birth
11
244 Years old
Birthplace
A temple
Children
Current Residence
Buried at the Tillerman Farm
Gender
Male
Eyes
Green with Gold flecks
Hair
White
Height
5'10"
Weight
170 lbs
Death Approaches
Winterwane 13, 241
The following excerpt is written in hastily scrawled elvish letters and was taken from a journal that was recovered after the ambush on the Tillerman farm. The pages are torn and soaked in blood.
23:00 Death Approaches
The gentle breeze has turned into a cold chill and the stench of fear hangs heavy in the air. I can hear the clanking armor of an army approaching in the darkness to the North of the farm (though I may have my directions mixed up. I am certain that we also just arrived to the farm from the Northern roads).
The army has come into view and the sight before me will forever be sealed in my memory. The seven giant figures approaching us are marching like men but they have horns as large as mountains reaching towards the sky and their bodies have the shape of bulls. At least, they would look like bulls if they had any bodies left to speak of. This death approaching us is living, but there is nothing left of them save for the decaying sinew dripping from their empty bones. I am now staring at a legion of a thousand skeletal soldiers being led by these giant abominations...
It is clear that I cannot wait for them to come in range of my sword and shield but I fear there will be little hope of escape.
Our donkey has abandoned the cart and run off into the woods. I can’t say I blame him.
Taranis tossed me a light crossbow and some bolts. It was the first time I have used a weapon of this kind, so it took me a few minutes to figure out. but I was finally able to hit one of the skeletons.
My enthusiasm was short lived, and I have been forced to take shelter behind the barn as the creature continues to approach.
0:30 The Darkest Hour
From my placement behind the barn, I have a clear view of the others as they bravely defend this farm. If I make it out of this alive, I’ll make sure to tell the tale of their incredible feats. Taranis using nothing but his fist to smite one of the giants, Neris shooting bursts of energy from his bare hands, Boaz and Radmac remaining calm in the middle of the horde of death, and Handollaf keeping them alive and using his quick wit to throw a torch on the barricades in front of the skeletons.
The fire doesn't seem to be catching as quickly as I would have thought. Perhaps the wood is still damp.
I had to make a mad dash into the farmhouse. I was planning to use the cover of the barn to lay down suppressive cover but one of the giants rushed across half the farm with incredible speed and was getting ready to flank me from behind. I've never been so terrified in my life.
The house is filled with civilians. I need to get them to safety but there doesn’t appear to be a back door. Maybe I can get the farmer they call Old Man Tillerman to come inside so I can arm him and rally his family to prepare for defense.
I thought I could speak common, but I seem to be having trouble with the local dialect of Idriell. Old Man Tillerman called me craven and wouldn’t listen to my plea. I’ll have to figure out another way to protect his family. Why can't they understand me? They're the ones with the heavy accent...
Goat, the majestic warhorse that Boaz rode to the farm, bravely took on two giants by himself. He lowered his head and bludgeoned them with ramming blows until one of them cut him across the side with a rusty battle axe. He fell with a whinny of pain and was bleeding profusely. The valiance of this horse has moved me to the core. I must keep him alive, I must keep hope alive.
Before running to the horse’s aid, I shouted to the Tillermans to stand their ground and defend their home with courage. I am especially impressed with the boy, Jon Tillerman, whose steely resolve showed no signs of fear.
When I rushed out, Old Man Tillerman was outside. I gave him the crossbow and told him to provide cover while I tended to Goat.
Goat’s wounds were grievous but I managed to stabilize him. Now I just need to .... ....
The last line is nearly illegible and trails off in a smear of blood.
(See Jack Tillerman for continuation)
Answering the Call
Winterwane 12, 241
21:15 Preparations
After the fire incident, I’ve been asked to join Radmac Snowson, Hadollof Obici, Taranis Skoll, Boaz Hamison and Neris on a patrol.
I can’t deny there is a fear inside me. The stories of the danger these men have faced are legendary and the evils out there seem so overwhelming. I must do my best to put on a brave face. Our citizens need me but this darkness threatens my spirits. Perhaps I can borrow money for a few supplies to ease my concerns...
There are shouts for help coming from the Tillerman farm. There is no more time for decisions, we must rush to their aid.
21:30 Arrival at the Tillerman Farm
The farm is scattered with chaos and the the farmers told us a terrifying story of walking skeletons. They can’t be telling the truth...can they? Some of them do have pretty serious injuries...
Taranis and Handollaf went inside the house to heal some wounded farmers while the rest of us work on fortifying the defenses around the farm. I’m ashamed to admit I am having some difficulty creating a barricade. It has been a while since I last used my carpentry tools, so I guess I am a little rusty.
Boaz rode off on his horse to scout the area until he realized he wasn’t able to see anything. Before he came back to help with the barricades, he left a torch out in the trees as a distraction...I fear that it will not work.
The barricades are heavy and don’t want to move. It seems like it will take a great deal of time to get them into a defensive position. I hope it will not be too late...
We finished setting the barricades in place and it is beginning to get dark. While the others are setting up torches, Radmac is setting up some traps. I plan to light up my shield as a beacon of hope. Then there will be nothing left to do but wait.
Friendly Fire
Winterwane 10, 241
There are dwarves in Vareholm! What a wonderfully refreshing sight. I didn’t expect to meet any here when I decided to leave the forge.
While I was in the hearth, a soldier going by Major Val fell asleep in the corner and caught his chair on fire with a cigarillo. I tried to fan it out with my wing and only spread it to his leg. Luckily, I was able to grab some water from the bar and douse it out. He woke up and gruffly went upstairs, but I think he was thankful...
Dreams
Winterwane 7, 241
I am beginning to make a few friends. There are all sorts of diverse cultures here and it’s difficult to get to know everyone but this looks to be a promising start to a new future.
I heard there is a new workshop in town where I might have a chance to work the forge a bit. I’ll need to talk to the owner, I think her name was Casey.
This city is growing quickly. A fellow paladin by the name of Conviction wants to build a hospital and I hear there is another gentleman trying to build a temple. I should speak with them about combining efforts with my plans for an orphanage and turning this city into a beacon of hope.
Hope
Winterwane 6, 241
I am still recovering from the voyage, but I have found a restful spot on the outskirts of town where I can view the beacon that protects Vareholm. There is a great comfort in this symbol of hope.
Arrival
Winterwane 5, 241
I have arrived at Vareholm safely. In light of recent news, it is fortunate that our ship was not attacked by those Sahuagin creatures.
I met a Tiefling who seems friendly, but troubled. She was talking to a chef who seemed a little giddy to meet me but after all the stories I’ve heard, it is good to see there are locals with this kind of hope.
Comments