Our Stalwart Heroes



Non-Player Characters


Patrons/Antagonists

This message was last edited by the GM at 12:38, Mon 25 Mar.

Felim is a Satarite from Sartar. Felim was born shortly after Sartar fell under Lunar occupation and grew up on the streets of the city.  He does not know his clan or kin. He was not above using the system to steal from Lunar charities and is familiar to how they operate. He is a lay member in cult of the Seven Mothers. He is not a true believer, but likes to cover all the possibilities for the future. He had managed to avoid Lunar fosterage mainly through his contacts with the local gangs which were directed and aided by the cult of Lanbril. He was unable to join due to his age.

Felim's luck finally ran out as he was sweaped up, mostly to his size and being in the wrong place at the wrong time, with a group of rebels. his choice was to join the Lunars, but refused at the last minute to accept the Lunar way (divine inspiration?) and was sentenced to the salt mines where our story starts.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:01, Mon 27 Nov 2023.

The rumor was that Derik Westwind’s parents were brother and sister, and it was absolutely untrue. Technically, they were half-sisters and cousins, I think. His Paternal Grandfather, married his late wife’s sister. Those two kids ended up falling in love and along came Derik.

When folks talk about “Boldhome Corruption”, they generally talk about noble families like the Westwinds. But when you have money and social standing, little things like family trees matter less and less. In fact, concentrated power is an advantage. Uncle Sturgis was some kind of war leader in the defense of Boldhome. He died bravely with his troops. Probably. I mean, he wasn’t much of a war leader. Or thinker. But he had status, which counted for a lot. Except for, you know, in battle.

Regardless, Derik was brought up with tales of his handsome, brave, superhuman uncle who died defending Boldhome. Derik, as you might guess, was not handsome. Or Brave. Or Superhuman. He could barely wield an axe one handed. He had trouble walking in a straight line. He spent a lot of time ‘tired’ or ‘sick’. He was lucky and dumb, which is generally a dangerous combination.

Growing up among the Pol-Joni, he was constantly bombarded with Pro-Sartar reactionary propaganda. “We’ll retake our homeland” “we’ll make the Lunar Empire Pay” etc. Derik didn’t follow politics. It required too much thought. He wasn’t the first born, and he was lucky they let him ride a horse. Riding was fun.

Approaching his 15th birthday, talk of course came to Cults. Orlanth, was of course what his parents wanted for him. Derik wanted something ‘cool’ and ‘flashy.’ Humakt had swagger. Waha nobility. Storm Bull Passion. But he was not flashy. He was not cool. He doubted he could ‘successfully make a sword attack’ or, well, you know, anything. But Derik wanted to be part of something, and he wanted to contribute.

He heard about Rhino Riders, and he knew he wanted to be a lance wielding Rhino Heavy Cavalryman. He wouldn’t have to support the heavy armor, his mount would. He wouldn’t have to shove a weapon through an animal, a charge from a rhino would do it.

He spoke to a member of the clan, surreptitiously and on the down-low. Meaning at the edge of the town where everyone could see him. He was told that to join, you had to either marry into the clan or get chosen by a rhino.

Derik figured ‘getting chosen’ meant going into a pen, finding one that for some reason liked you, and BAM, you were in.

So he snuck off. He slipped into a pen, with a full moon so he had great light and was seen by half a dozen herdsmen. He walked up to one of the magnificent beasts and was promptly thrown twelve feet. He landed in a pile of rhino shit, stars clouding his eyes, and a fist breaking his nose. He woke up slung over the back of a rhino, hands tied, and gagged.
The travel ended with some silver passing hands, a man in a stupid hat cutting him free and handing him a shovel. Before they started digging, the newcomers were lined up.

One of the men in the funny hats was actually a woman, and she babbled in some foreign language. She asked a question and a crusty old slave translated. “Who are you?” Derik thought on the question, he was the son of nobility. They should be impressed by his blood line and treat him better than the others. He noticed that some pretty blond girl spoke up with a crisp clear voice; she was princess Ariadne something something from some blood line, descended from heroes and legends and beloved of Orlanth and blah blah blah. While the girl spoke defiantly, the wind caught her hair, billowed her clothes, and she almost glowed. The officer lady’s shoulders slumped and she seemed to be counting on her hand.  When Ariadne Whatever finished, the officer stated (as translated by the prisoner) “you wasted thirty five seconds of our lives. Guard, punish her.” And the girl was beaten by cudgels for 35 seconds. While she lay on the ground bleeding, the officer made eye contact with Derik Westwind.

“Who are you?”

Derik was dumb, but he could learn. Without a beat, he simply replied “Brom”. While the guards were wiping blood off their cudgels, the entire line spat out their names, one at a time, thirty men in 14 seconds.

After that, it was like he was on the Heroplane. At least, time had no meaning and the pain never seemed to end.

When the guards fell asleep and the gates opened, Derik casually walked out. He would have run, but that would have exhausted him in about three minutes. Luckily, he found a undefended horse that was much friendlier than the Rhino. He followed the crowd to the staff wielding superhero. When offered a place in a cult, Derik barely listened to the name. When he was told to, “go forth and steal.” He was quickly on board. Belonging to a real cult, even if it were a criminal gang, was his lifes dream. When he was offered a ‘gift, with very limited strings’ he gladly accepted. He got bigger. He got stronger. His persistent coughing went away. His savior mentioned that they had new faces, and Derik decided to go by a new name. “Barbarosa”. No. Maybe Grognak? Those were sold, barbarian names. He finally settled on Bron. Or Brom. It was good enough for prison, it was good enough for a life of crime.

As he shook his head, he felt like a kind of fog went away. He was getting smarter, remembering things better. Making more connections. He now was at the point where he knew he was going to make bad decisions, but maybe he could get strong enough to survive them.
He wasn’t sure if the Rhino Riders was his goal anymore. He belonged to Lanbril. But those mounts were still amazing. He’d have to see what opportunities came his way. The old guy, dude must have been pushing 30, mentioned some names that he was forced to memorize. Was told they were Bad Men. Probably Lunar Heroes. And to watch out for assassins. Brom didn’t want to correct the guy, but you wouldn’t see assassins coming. If you saw them, then they clearly weren’t assassins, right? Whatever – don’t let the guys with staffs touch you. That seemed like good advice. The guy casually mentioned a falling star. Brom took that too heart and took the casual mention to be an order. Off he went.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:59, Sat 18 Nov 2023.

Whatever her real name is only she knows- amongst the prisoners she was referred to as “Mouse,” when she was referred to at all. It was a pretty appt description in more than one way. She wasn’t exactly small, but she was certainly the weakest and sickliest of the children that had been thrown into this salt mine full of prisoners. But Mouse, when it was possible, was very good at hiding and sneaking away or escaping many of the dangers of daily life, whether inflicted by the jailors or other prisoners. Like her namesake, she was able to scrounge and survive on scraps so small you’d hardly believe your eyes. Her eyes, brown like her hair and skin, flashed with intelligence- Mouse was always watching for the danger in each moment. If there was anything unusual about her, it was the way she always kept her neck covered or hidden- there’s some mark or scar there that she hides almost unconsciously. A couple of prisoners that have caught brief glimpses swore it was a Disorder rune branded on her neck – or a Chaos rune.

When the strange man came and freed the prisoners, she, like the rest of this group, felt compelled to stand before him and listen to his offer. Mouse knows that gifts are given by supplicants to the powerful or to tie a person with obligation- and she knows which applies to her. She lives in a world where the weak are used by the powerful and promises only hold where advantage lasts. However, while being out of a prison is better than being in one, her situation is still pretty dire. If she can take his gifts, play his game, and use them well while they last it could mean everything- Hope that she can find her place in the world, hope that she can escape her past, and hope that she could be strong to protect the weak.

When the deal is made, no one in the group glows so bright as Mouse as the stranger’s magic enhances their bodies. She decline’s his offer to tie her soul to his cult, but laughs in chagrin as she feels bands of control as strong as she is now clamping down on her will. She will have to be as quick and clever as a fox to get out of this. “You can call me, Elurae,” she says to the group.

Edraig, son of Edragon, son of Edrakar and his family fled the Lunar oppression in Sartar to Pavis. His grandfather, Edrakar died in the Lunar conquest of Sartar. The family fled to his mother's people, the Pol-Joni, in the wake of the Lunar victory, in order to avoid the persecution of worshipers of Orlanth, ending up in New Pavis a few years later. Separated from family and clan when the Lunars conquered Pavis, he vowed to take a stand and join the resistance against the Empire and, by hook or by crook, help to free Pavis and his homeland of Sartar. Resolved to follow Orlanth's example and that of the Lightbringers, he has accepted the gift of The Stranger in order to gain strength for the struggle, while recognizing the bargain (and obligation) made for power and freedom.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:54, Sun 26 Nov 2023.

Hafling Healer – Florance Healall
Originally from Sartar, the Village Halfling Hollow near Duck Point - “Flow” as her friends call her was born into a family of healers.  Her family believed as a daughter of Glorantha , she must take some time and experience the world and travel to see the people of the world all of whom are child of the grandmother and deserving of Chalana Arroy’s comfort and compassion.
She should be safe enough, the world respects Chalana Arroy and not would harm her, or so it was believed.  Things went wrong when she intervened on behave of an accused thief (and follower of a Lanbril as it would later turn out) and healed and attempted to protect him from death.  As it turned out, the thief had stolen from a powerful local merchant.  She did manage to save the thief’s life and was pleased by her intervention but nonetheless and regardless of her cult and intention the merchant wanted the healer charged as an accessory and bundled off with the thief to the camps.  Not  being high in the cult of CA, a modest bribe secured his desire to have the meddling pacifist do some time - over the mild reluctance of the Lunar constable.    Like the others she escape the camps but ended up alone in the confusion of the night and meet an old man who offered her a way to serve mother Glorantha byseeking out some would be adventures in need of a healer.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:44, Sun 26 Nov 2023.

Egallion grew up in the Lunar town of Furthest in the province of Tarsh. His mother was a singer in an all-night cabaret, where his father was a bouncer and knife juggler. Business was brisk, and mother's talent drew large crowds; she was often requested for private performances at dinner parties and other social events attended by minor Lunar nobility.

Life was good, and Egallion attended schools some considered above his station. Classmates often joked cruelly about how his mother was actually a highly paid prostitute, and the "dinner parties" in which she performed were actually orgies. And pop was a trickster of the murderer aspect, and killed for coin. But that couldn't be reality, could it?

When it turned out that the cabaret owner was involved in smuggling weapons and armor into Sartar, the wrath of the Lunar Empire fell on the entire cast and crew. The family attempted to flee to Too Far, just outside the Glowline, where Egallion's father grew up, but was captured by a Lunar patrol outside of Slavewall. The family was separated, and Egallion has no idea whether his mother and father survive.

He was sent to the salt mines, where he toiled for months before the miracle that aided his escape occurred. Now he's thrust amongst these others, and plots his revenge against the Lunar Empire.

Born the fourth child and only girl of the chieftain of the White Rhino tribe. She was raised to ride and fight like her brothers and revere the plains and the open sky. She is a lay member of Yelmalio.  When she was 15 she rejected the plan of her father for an arranged marriage and knew she needed to make her own way in the world. She took her favorite weapons and left the tribe behind, promising herself to one day make her father proud of the warrior she has become.

Her relationship with the Lunar empire is mixed.  She has no love of the Lunar empire since she does not like the strings that they put on some of the other rhino tribes, but one of her older brothers left to join the lunar forces in Prax.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:39, Sun 26 Nov 2023.