I am Sheol, named so after my father who was a great Warmaster and brought much death to the elven realm. I have been in this world for 16 winters. Throughout the town I am known as the Madman, namely so for after seeing my mother's body strung upon the rafters of our home and drowning myself in drink and anger.
I am about 5 feet tall which is helpful on occasion to fool some since I am of Dwarvish descent. Although young I already have a large and full beard that goes to my belly which opposes my head that has never grown hair. My skin is fair but you would hardly know it since my bathing schedule is sporadic at best and I mostly sleep wherever my drunken stupor lands me.
In the few moments I have of coherence I listen to the many travelers that come through the tavern and bend the ear of all willing to share. I more than anything enjoy the tales of those who are friends with the wood and the animals within who call themselves Druid.
It is almost my time to end this charade that I have kept and to advance on to my real true goal and to find those who have upended my life and murdered my mother. I will become a great Warmaster as my father before me and bring honor and loyalty to this land and thus begins my quest.
A Sentimental Value: Dagger
I take the dagger bequeathed upon to me by my mother as it was the first gift I ever received. I have used this dagger for nearly everything and almost daily. And now I will take this dagger and do to those foul people what they did to my mother, I will carve out their hearts.
Upon nearing the gate of the Town I saw a traders cart had dropped a small pouch that went unnoticed. Seeing as I had very little to start a new life I chose to obtain this pouch for myself. Once out of sight of prying eyes I delved into the bag to see what I had acquired. Heart racing I peered into the bag when I heard a gruff voice say to me "looks like we shall get along just fine". After a few hours of speaking with this specter I found the man known as Lokison was a kind of protector, someone my father had saved from certain death, owed a blood oath and was his duty to watch over me and assure impartial judgement. We seemed to be in the same mindset of anarchistic youth and exuberance. Although I did not understand the reason for my watcher to have stayed hidden for so long it felt like a reprieve to have another beside me in this new place of wonder.
Deity of Sheol
An oddly beautiful but horrifying creature of pale white skin with ritualistic scars from head to toe. While wearing little but the wrappings of a poorly deposited body the power that emanates from the Payer of Remorse is unquestionable, and to question her is foolish.