Half-Elf Bard


Str: 14 (2, 2)
Dex: 17 (3, 6)
Con: 14 (2, 2)
Int: 12 (1, 1)
Wis: 14 (2, 2)
Cha: 20 (5, 8)

AC: 14
HP: 37/37 (5d8)
Speed: 30ft

Light armor, simple weapons, hand crossbows, rapier, longswords, shortswords, improv. weapons, disguise kit, thieve’s tools, dulcimer, lute, shawn.

Common, Elvish, Dwarvish

Chaotic Neutral, Bard, College of Lore, ~55 years old, looks in his 20s.
Known for wearing whatever the fudge he wants, his purple hair, his facial markings, and his generally atypical (read: flamboyant) state of being. Anyone who wishes to look hard enough will notice that he has covered up a few long scars along his face and his neck. There are two thin ones (right side of his chin just along his jaw, and through his the end of his right eyebrow) and one thicker one (along his left cheek bone and over the bridge of his nose – he’s had this one for as long as he can remember and its not as rough as one would expect because of its age) on his face. He has three thin scars that look like scratches as well along his neck (one partially across his throat, and the other two near his left collar bone). Anyone who has seen him without his favorite hair pins holding up his hair – or at least tucked in – knows that his hair isn’t normally the beautiful plum purple that he’s known for, but rather a very pale golden blonde – near white – that doesn’t match his darker colored eyebrows.

He goes by Elle (“L”). He doesn’t know the name he was born with because he lost his childhood/teenage memories. The only thing he has from his past is a small slip of cloth with the word “E’rolythe” sewn into it.

He almost always has his lute on his back and his rapier at his side. He also keeps a dagger hidden at the small of his back, beneath his coat.

The devil may care, but Elle sure doesn’t. He normally has a carefree attitude and doesn’t let much bother him, or rather he doesn’t let it show.

Tavern Brawler


The first thing Elle can remember is waking up on the side of a dirt road, the rain pouring down on his face. He had already been soaked to the bone by the point, and waking up to it had only made it worse. As he shivered and trudged towards the nearest city he had tried to desperately figure out who he was or what he was doing out in the middle of no where. It took about a full day before he reached a small town.

He tried asking for food and shelter at first, but quickly learned that most people weren’t the giving sort. It was a long couple of days before he was able to forage and sneak enough food to even begin to feel full, and while he was at it he mostly slept in darkened alleys, keeping one eye open as much as he could for any signs of someone sneaking up on him. Despite his best efforts he did got jumped a couple of times, though his attackers were sadly mistake in their efforts since he had nothing but the clothes on his back and some moldy food in his pocket.

He lived like this for nearly a year, teaching himself how to steal, how to stick to the shadows, how to lift things from people before they ever even knew he was there. He traveled slowly but surely, reaching larger and more interesting cities as he went. He learned to blend in, to hide himself so that he became one of the many faces that other more well off people in these populated areas quickly looked away from. They didn’t want to remember he was there. They didn’t want to be burdened with the knowledge that they had passed someone by who they could have helped. Elle used this to his advantage.

It all worked rather well, and since Elle didn’t know much different he never really cared about having more. Then he stole from the wrong person, and got his life turned on its head. The man had been a Lord or something – Elle never really cared enough to learn his title – and apparently took offense to a homeless young man stealing food from one of his surprisingly observant servants making a market run. The guards protecting the servant had swooped in on Elle so fast he hadn’t had time to react let alone run. They dragged him back to the Lord’s manor and for the next two years Elle was enslaved. He had mostly been forced to do menial housework, when he wasn’t locked away in the cellar with the others who disobeyed or on the run from the guards during his multiple escape attempts. He had thought he had known how it was to be beaten and starved before, but he quickly learned different.

One night Elle managed to get lucky and run into a dwarven woman during one of his escape attempts. For some reason, and he’s still not certain why to this day, the woman took him in and hid him away. She helped him evade the guards who were looking for him and got him out of the city mostly unscathed. Then she offered to let him tag along with her until she came to the end of her journey. Elle had been suspicious and refused to turn his back to her for weeks while they traveled, but he hadn’t seen much of a choice at the time. The road they had been on lead in two directions, towards his old “Master” and away from that hell. Elle chose the lesser of two evils and stuck with her. After a while he was able to start believing she wasn’t just going to kill him or something else equally heinous, and relaxed.

They traveled quite a bit, and Elle was able to learn skills he hadn’t previously thought about even obtaining before, back when his life revolved around where his next meal would come from or where he could catch a couple hours of sleep. Moms, as he began to call the woman he traveled with once he discovered she didn’t have a name any more then he did, taught him what she could with using weapons. His strength and his lithe form only allowed him any advantages in learning the more simple, and lighter weapons. The Greatsword the woman carried on her for instance, could only be lifted a few inches off the ground by his hands before he had to give up and simply drag it along; which never seemed to end well for him since Moms usually whacked him upside the head with the closest thing she could find and then proceeded to yell at him to “treat her husband with more respect” whenever she caught him dragging the weapon on the ground.

Other than weapon training Elle began to take lessons in a couple of instruments. He found music to be rather relaxing and surprisingly easy to learn. Almost like an old memory returning to the surface of his mind, though he couldn’t for the life of him ever remember learning how to play anything. He tended to learn bits and pieces of skills whenever they stopped in a town or city long enough. There was always a group of people (usually in taverns, but sometimes they were performers on street corners) around with similar interests to his that he would drift towards. Once they discovered his skill with music they would jovially take him under their wings and teach him odd skills.

It was during the first few years of this that he actually begin finding himself a bit more. Learning how to change his appearance using cosmetics found in disguise kits had lead him to discovering that he quite enjoyed wearing the light face paints and powders. He took to wearing dark pigments around his eyes that made his golden eye color stand out, and other paints that matched his skin color to cover up at least the off-coloring of the more prominent scars along his face and neck. Sometimes he wore even more of the make-up, but only when he and Moms knew they would be lingering in a place for a while. Nothing was worse then wearing a multitude of powder and paint on your face when you had to run for your life from a bear or a group of bandits.

His love of wearing cosmetics tended to draw three types of people to him. One group was men that his appearance drew in and enticed; which was how he discovered his own preference in such encounters and is a rather hilarious story for another time. The second group consists of people that take offense to a man wearing something deemed only suitable for women; which was how he discovered that he quite enjoyed a good fight. Finally the third group was made of those, particularly men, who felt the same as he on the matter. He found he rather enjoyed the comradery, even though he didn’t often stay long enough to truly make friends of these people.

In the last few years things with Elle and Moms started changing. Not so much their relationship, but their lifestyle. They had more or less settled down in a city. Moms had managed to collect more “orphans” – or rather lost souls – who somehow found themselves attached or indebted to her, much to Elle’s chagrin most of the time. He and Moms had made their home in a Tavern/Inn within the city and the others had just…. followed. The lot of them, including Elle, ended up wandering off every once in a while to do the odd jobs that popped up around the city. They did everything from bounty hunting to light cleaning. One thing they all did, for some reason, was bring some of their earnings back to their “home”. Just to make sure that everyone – mostly Moms – had enough for food and shelter – and ale – that night.


Misfits and Mayhem amorashep