Tir Na n'Fir
Shalev Ben Barak Ben Aris
Paladin of Ma'at/Desert Ranger
INTELLIGENCE 2 Languages (Elven)(Ancient Elven, Common [ Desert ,Sea]) Survival (Desert, Ocean, Winter) 5 S: Read/Write 3
DEXTERITY 4 Dodge 7 Edge Weapons 8
WISDOM _2___ Animal Handling 7 Bargain 4 Chirurgy/First Aid 4 Diplomacy 3 Willpower 6
STRENGTH 4 Brawling 5D+1
CHARISMA 2 Command 4 Etiquette 3 Intimidate 3
A lightly tanned man with a close cropped beard and short hair, dressed in White DragonSkin leather armor and desert robes. Moves with grace, Wears a necklace with crocodile teeth around his neck. Often accompanied by his desert cat, Amit. Prefers lighter colors, little jewelry or affectation. Normally will wear the White Dragon Armor, heat permitting, with the shield on his person, the longsword and dagger at his waist, another dagger at his back, wearing the broach, carrying his gems, a waterskin, flint, wears the layan great-sword on his back and the extremely fine platinum red cap necklace around his neck, hidden under his clothing. His bandoleer has ten draughts of pure healing in it.
His cat, Amit, has claws which possesses the power of a sword of nine lives stealing.
Shalev Ben Barak ben Aris, Master of the Southern Trade Route and Keeper of the Swords of the Angels, of the city of Garmeh sha Kavir met Dashtir is the younger of two sons, and the dreamer who does not want to rule. Skilled with animals, the minor son was a willing student but preferred to tend to the animals on the estate than the matters of business. Rescued a leopard kitten from a crocodile, which he killed with his sword and later skinned to make his leather armor, which he is known for wearing instead of the cloth common to the area. Sought a teacher in the wild and found an Elf who was amused enough by him to take him as a pupil. A quiet man, he does not often speak and must often be reined in, when he veers from the practical to the fantastic and back. He dislikes cities which are loud, and unnecessarily cruel.
Likes stories of the past and is curious about the desert and the treasures which may lay within its bounds. Appreciates weapons for the tools they are and looks for a sword which is worthy of his skill. Loyal to his family, he does not desire to inherit and leaves the business to those suited for it. Not greedy, does not believe in owning more than he can carry, save when needed to survive, though is learning to appreciate the value of wealth. Has a strong aversion to starving, due to his early experiences in the desert. Sees money as the means to an end, not an end in and of itself, and will not burden himself with more than he can reasonably transport, if at all possible.
Will go along with a group to a point, but has certain hard lines, which he will not cross. Has a pack mentality, and is aware of his innate lack of diplomacy, which he works to correct.
I was born to a family that was settled down, and had trouble bearing it. I was the dog of my family, clumsy and stupid, good for simple tasks and following orders. I was loyal to a fault, and cared for my family. I was the second son, and respected my older brother. He treated me with patronizing good grace, appreciating my loyalty and lack of ambition, and covering for me when I ventured out, never sure if I would return.
In one of my escapes, I saw a crocodile hunting a small desert cat, and in my anger at the way it was toying with its prey, I attacked. I slew it and skinned it, and its skin is my armor, its teeth a decoration around my neck. While my brother was more skilled in politics, I studied arms and attained a reasonable level of skill. When I reached the age of majority, I bid farewell to my parents and went out into the wilderness, to live on the land, and away from people. They are confusing, and while in small groups they are tolerable, in larger ones they irritate me.
I was in the desert for several months, surviving reasonably well, when I turned to see a robed figure at my fire. I bid her welcome and offered her food, for I was raised with manners, even if I am unskilled in their use. She had been watching me for some time, and traveled with me, never saying a word, though she did display amusement at my foibles. After a time, I began to copy her actions, and learned quickly about surviving, and fighting, and avoiding.
She is lonely, I think, and bored, and looking for something new. I’m never asked her age, nor has she given it, and it was years before she gave me her name. She asked me once, were I to make a wish, what was my desire. She raised an eyebrow, when I answered “Wisdom, for I am a fool.” and shortly thereafter consented to teach me. I can’t tell if she thinks I can actually learn or just wants to see what stupid thing I’ll do next, but either way, I am learning from her council, when I understand it.
I remember hearing stories of weapons made with an odd color, and I’d like to possess one someday, having heard of their prowess. The only one I have seen to date was possessed by a group we found wandering the desert.
As the Goddess Ma’at came to my aid, I will serve her faithfully until she no longer needs me to serve her or I die in her service, whichever happens first. I’ve come to terms with being a paladin, and will do my best to upload balance wherever I go. I think of myself as a counterweight when needed, and am aware I have much to learn.
Barak, my father, was a minor noble that believed in the tent living even when on settled land. My elder brother, Mah-Aharon, may have participated in the plan of his murder. I have requested more information from the diviner priests and with the assistance of Ma-at, will request justice from the Sheik my family owes fealty to. The Princess may be of help in working to this end, as doing so will result in me becoming the heir to the house, and this permitting her to run the family business when I am away. My anger at first burned hot, but now grows cold, controlled, and is a sharp thing, which I will use precisely where and when appropriate.
I’ve seen the harm an ambitious younger brother may cause, but I didn’t consider what a spiteful older brother might do, should he not yet be ready to take over his responsibilities. When betrothal negotiations are complete, and we have returned (ideally with information from the library which may be use, and with Ishmael’s hammer), I will work with my bride on the proper execution of justice.
I have helped bring water back to the desert, fought an Efreet, freed a Djinn, brought a mage back to life, been accepted as a paladin by a goddess, found the secret forumula for the golden metal and found a teacher who helped me learn to survive. Having managed to accomplish all of that, I believe it is time my brother discovered the strength of will I have forged when hammered by the reality of the world around me.
The city, such as it was, where I grew up is Garmeh sha Kavir met Dashtir. It’s ten miles from the coast at the head of the southern trade routes that lead deep into Ariscolia’s deserts. This desert is known as Dashtir-Nagsha, up until the edge of the Elven range (the stone mountains that mark the southern border of the Desert Elven lands). In fact, it is from one of those elves that I first heard of the golden axes and swords that used to mark the leaders of the southern desert, when it was fertile.
Zarat is the regional Goddess (most cities/tribes have local divinity clusters) associated with women, and is invoked regularly for fertility issues, a common complaint for the last millennia. The curse against the fertility of the world is so strong as you move into the desert that it is said “may my womb contain Dashtir” when women insult each other with vile curses. For what it’s worth the tribal God of the men is Taveyeh, who guards the sons of the chosen and their younger brothers. Dashtir is also worshiped, as the desert is a living thing even when it is sick, and is the power behind the animals and plants and water of the land.
I was released from family duty to Barak when my brother began taking on the business of being family leader and tribal voice. I have a responsibility to my mother, which I take seriously and when I learned she was in charge of the family finances, I gave her the Stargem I acquired so as to permit her to be better able to deal with any issues which might arise due to either debts or other issues.
I borrow my name from my family, and my actions reflect on my family and on Ma’at. I can no longer countenance the abrasive language which angers gods, causes the release of efreet, and generally inflicts chaos and murder on the world. These action reflect on me more than ever, and I can no longer permit them in my presence.
The time since I have joined the party is being revaluated through the prism of my new position, and the seven times I have been wounded, threatened, or nearly killed through the deliberate action or inaction of party has resulted in a part of my soul being taken, forced me into marriage, and is generally making cleaning up after certain members of my party a full time job. I appear to guard them or come to their aid unbidden more than they do for me.
When we have cleared the swamp, returned the library book, moved the tree and cleaned out whatever is beneath it, and dealt with the healing orcs, I will return to the Oasis of the White Palm, kill the wraith, clear the temple for Nutartek, and will then decide where I wish to go, and whether I still wish to travel with some of my companions. The constant insults and rudeness are beginning to grate on my last nerve, and the actions I have taken in an attempt to make peace have gone unremarked, unrewarded, and unacknowledged.
Our party consists of
a water dog who turns into a woman, who is the avatar of a goddess with only one worshiper
a self centered and irritable mage with more power than control, and little thought to the consequences of her actions
a desert elf who is consort to my teacher
a blacksmith who travels with us out of a desire for more wealth
a hunter who serves as a bodyguard and helps keep our party provisioned
a priest from the desert with some skill in controlling elementals and summoning goat meat
my teacher, the Immortal